


Facilis Descensus Averni

by 29Pieces



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel (Supernatural) in Hell, Castiel Needs a Hug, Gabriel is Running Heaven, Gen, Headcanon, Heaven, Hell, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Really Character Death, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Rescue Missions, Sigils, Threats of Violence, Tortured Castiel, Winchesters (Supernatural) to the Rescue, gabriel is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29Pieces/pseuds/29Pieces
Summary: First, the reapers started going missing. Then, when Castiel braves the journey to Hell to investigate, he disappears, too. With no other option, Gabriel sends Sam and Dean after the wayward warrior. But while the descent into Hell is easy, finding their angel and getting him home won't be…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the thing… this is not a death-fic.
> 
> But Sam and Dean are dead. Like Dead dead. Like died and went to Heaven dead. Through the entirety of the fic, with no plans of being Not Dead in the future. But… I mean, I can't classify it as a death-fic if they're still going around doing their thing, right? So yes, they're dead, but no, it's not a death-fic.
> 
> The title is Latin, basically "the descent into Hell is easy". It's a nod to the Shadowhunters fandom, which inspired this fic (not a crossover, just inspired by).
> 
> Thanks so much to the ever-patient and ever-wonderful Aini NuFire for being such a marvelous beta! I'll be posting every Wednesday ^_^
> 
> Also, I've had folks ask in the past if I'm on Tumblr. I finally joined the Tumblr era, hahaha, so come chat if you want! I'm 29-pieces.

The coffee was hot.

That was one thing Sam appreciated the most about this place: the coffee was  _always_ hot. No matter how many hours he sat in the Bunker's library, poring over the old tomes of lore and knowledge, his back never ached and the coffee never needed reheating.

Not that Sam needed the drink for energy. That was another thing he never ran out of anymore. No, it was more the comforting, familiar habit, the delicious taste that heightened the experience, the simple love of the coffee rather than the effect it no longer had anyway.

All in all, there were worse heavens out there.

Sam turned another page, awash with contentment.

Up above him, the door of the Bunker swung open with the squeal of metal and the faint ringing of celestial energy slipping in from Heaven proper. Sam grinned and closed the book, turning in his chair with a greeting already on his lips.

"Cas! So get this, did you know that ghouls-" The hunter paused as their visitor descended the stairs with a smirk. "Oh."

"Oh?" Gabriel repeated, huffing in mock offense. "That's all I get?"

"Sorry, just wasn't expecting you. What're you doing here?"

Gabriel had reached the bottom of the stairs, now looking around with vague shiftiness as he shrugged. "What, I can't pop in on two of my favorite wards? I mean, you  _are_ in the care of Heaven, and I  _am_ in charge of it, so…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay. But we've only seen you, what, twice in all the years since we died?"

"Like I said: in charge of Heaven. Not exactly a cushy nine-to-five job. Where's Dean?"

The hunter twisted to glance over his shoulder. "Um… either fishing out back or in the simulation room. Which was a really great addition, by the way. Thanks for that."

"Cas insisted. Guess he thought Dean would be happy killing fake monsters forever, I don't know. Hang on a sec."

Gabriel snapped his fingers. Light flashed, and when it had faded, Dean was standing there with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other, brandishing both. He stumbled at the sudden change in scenery, cursing as his shot went wild.

"Damn it, Gabriel!"

"Sorry," the archangel said with an easy shrug, not looking all that apologetic. "Came to chat. Have a seat."

He gestured to the empty spot next to Sam at the library table, before taking one himself on the other side. Dean shot him another glare but lowered himself into the chair and grumbled,

"What do you want?"

"Actually, to make you an offer," the archangel replied.

Sam's eyebrows rose, suddenly suspicious. He traded a look with his brother, then prompted, "Uh-huh?"

"A one-time offer. One the other angels are gonna be a little peeved about, I might add. Look, I know you boys are dead and retired, and no one deserves this rest more than you, but you're also the best in the business. And I just so happen to have a mission that needs doing."

Both hunters sat up straighter, Sam feeling his face slacken with dismay. "Is it Earth?" he gasped. "Claire… is she okay? What about-"

"It's not an Earth problem," Gabriel reassured him with an airy wave of his hand. "You boys trained the next generation pretty damn good, actually. And they're busy training the  _next_ generation by now. All's quiet there since you closed the Hellgates."

"And died in the process," Dean reminded him with a snort. "So like you said… we're retired."

"Besides, shouldn't you be talking to Cas about this?" Sam asked, frowning. "I mean, he does still go out on missions for you when he's not here, right?"

Gabriel hesitated; only for a fraction of a second, but just long enough to raise the hair on Sam's neck. He tensed while out of the corner of his eye, he noted Dean also stiffen.

"Gabriel," Dean growled. "What aren't you telling us?"

The archangel sighed. "Castiel  _is_ the mission."

"Excuse me?" Sam snapped.

"Right, how's it go? Cas is on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days." Gabriel paused, then leaned in closer. "And between you and me, fellas, I'm starting to get worried. He was supposed to check in with me over a week ago, but… nary a word. I think something's gone wrong."

"Where is he?" Dean snarled, now slowly straightening to his feet with a thunderous expression. "Where the hell did you send him?"

"Funny you should phrase it like that-"

"You sent Cas to  _Hell_?" Dean's shout echoed in the cavernous bunker, while Sam rubbed his face with disbelief.

After everything they'd gone through to try and take Hell off the table as far as causing problems, here they were again. Unbelievable. Sam shook his head and snapped, "But we  _closed_ Hell-"

"You closed it from demons getting out," Gabriel corrected. "Reapers still gotta do their job. All the angel subtypes can still come and go. Look, I wouldn't have sent him if it wasn't important-"

"Yeah, and now you and your very important mission have lost him!" Dean turned away, fingers raking through his hair as he took up a distressed pacing.

The archangel rose to his feet as well, stepping closer to Dean and spreading his hands. "Castiel is my best. And of the warriors I have left, he's the one with the most experience in Hell. It was supposed to be recon only, but… like I said, it's been over a week now-"

"Then why are you here?" Dean demanded, spinning back around and storming forward to get in Gabriel's face. " _You're_ the archangel! How could you just leave him there?"

"What…  _me_ go after him? Maybe be the next one to disappear?"

Dean's jaw tightened; Sam could see the fire in his brother's eyes.

"You friggin' coward."

Gabriel's hands flew forward, slamming into Dean's chest so that he crashed back into the wall hard enough to splinter the plaster.

"Is that what you think?" the archangel seethed. His face darkened to the visage of a nightmare as he advanced on the human. "That I'm just too  _scared_? I  _can't_ go after him. What if I did? What if I went, and maybe never came back? You know what happens next?"

"Gabriel-" Sam tried to interject, but the ruler of Heaven held up a hand to silence him.

"If I hadn't agreed to come back and take charge when Chuck asked, Heaven would have fallen apart! Souls falling to Earth! Until Chuck's newest batch of fledglings grows up,  _my_ grace is what's keeping the lights on around here. I  _can't_  leave, no matter how much I want to go get Castiel back."

Dean eyed the archangel before him, then slowly nodded. "Fine," he growled. "So you can't leave. So what, you're just gonna leave him out there?"

"No." Gabriel stepped back, arms spreading in an inclusive gesture. "If I can't go after Cas myself, I'm gonna send the next best thing. So are you in, or still retired?"

Sam shot Dean a look, but the unspoken conference was more a formality than an actual question; he already knew what his brother's answer would be. Dean gave him a sharp nod. Turning back to Gabriel, Sam demanded,

"How do we get there?

The archangel straightened as though a physical burden had been lifted from his shoulders, lines on his face smoothing out.

"It's gonna take an angel or a reaper to get you in," he replied. "And after the last reaper disappeared, I doubt any of them will-"

"Wait, what do you mean, disappeared?" Dean interrupted. "As in…?"

Gabriel shrugged. "We don't know what's happening to them. That's what I sent Castiel to find out. The reapers came to me and said a whole string of them who've been carting souls down to Hell haven't returned. Whatever's going on, it was enough to spook 'em, and let me tell you… reapers don't spook easy. We're talking full on rebellion brewing, refusing to ferry any more souls downstairs if I couldn't put a stop to the disappearances."

"What would a demon be doing killing reapers?" Sam asked with furrowed brow. "Wouldn't they  _want_  them…restocking?"

Again, Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know that the reapers are being killed. And frankly, I'm hoping they're not. Since it stands to reason whatever's happening to them is what's happened to…"

He trailed off, but neither Winchester needed that blank filled in. A grim silence descended for a brief moment, before Gabriel cleared his throat.

"Anyway, when Cas agreed to take the mission, we persuaded one more reaper to travel down with him, just to show him where the disappearances have been concentrated. Neither one came back, so I wouldn't bank on any  _more_ reapers showing you two the way. It'll have to be an angel. So, if you'll just hold tight…"

"Wait, but what about-"

Sam was cut off as Gabriel snapped his fingers, and everything tumbled in a whirlwind of light and color. When his surroundings solidified again, the Bunker was gone, replaced by what seemed to be an office. Sam stumbled upon the abrupt landing, hand going to his mouth as he heard Dean groan with discomfort. Even in Heaven as souls, flying didn't ever get any easier.

"You guys met Terriel?" Gabriel asked with a blasé grin, clearly unconcerned with the effect of the flight on the two hunters.

The name made Sam straighten with interest, shaking off the nausea as he noticed another angel standing by the wall that was covered top to bottom in strange symbols. A desk beside him was overflowing with scrolls and books turned every which way in a topsy-turvy tumble. A few sheaves had drifted to the floor, revealing more indecipherable script. The angel paused in his scribblings on the wall to look their way.

"Terriel?" Dean repeated, still holding his stomach. "Wait, the, uh…" He snapped his fingers. "Sigil angel."

"You invented all the sigils, right?" Sam added, looking around the untidy office. "Cas speaks highly of you."

"Does he indeed?" Terriel asked with a somber lift of his head. "I'm honored. Castiel is a great warrior." He turned to Gabriel next with a respectful nod. "They'll do it?"

"Yeah, they're in."

"The other angels will be… less than thrilled."

Dean bristled, glaring at Terriel. "And why's that?"

The angel's lips twitched. "Because they imagined that when the Winchesters died, so would the Winchester chaos. Releasing you from your heaven puts that at risk. I for one am glad Castiel has such loyal friends. However disruptive you may be to the general order of things."

Sam frowned. "Thanks… I- I think."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," Gabriel retorted. "If  _Cas_  got nabbed, no other angel would stand a chance. And I'm not leaving him there, which means we're going with the B-Team. Terriel, tell me you've got something."

"I'm close," Terriel assured him, at the same time that Dean grumbled,

"B-Team?"

"This is what I've managed so far," the angel went on, scattering more parchment across the floor as he dug through the piles on the table to find the one he was looking for. Several sigils that Sam had never seen before covered the paper. "There's one more element I need to add to them, though."

"How long?" Gabriel demanded impatiently. "We're on the clock, Terry."

"I know, just give me a moment. Sam, Dean, if you would please stand over here and hold still."

The brothers traded a look, but moved in the direction Terriel was directing. The angel stepped back, one hand coming to stroke his chin in a pensive gesture as he simply stood and stared at the two. After an awkward minute, Sam cleared his throat in discomfort.

"Uh," Dean started, shifting, but Terriel held up a hand.

"No, please don't move. You're disrupting your energy pattern."

"Our what?" Sam asked.

Gabriel crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "He said to hush, Samsquatch. Let him work."

The scrutiny was discomfiting, Terriel's piercing gaze roving over the two without a word. Sam had no idea what the angel could possibly be looking for or how this was supposed to help Cas. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Terriel blinked and turned his eyes away, hurrying to the wall and starting to scribble shapes on a blank spot with almost feverish intensity.

"Your energy," he said as he worked. "Every soul is unique. It forms very specific patterns, so if I can map yours, I can… theoretically… create…" Terriel trailed off as though having forgotten he'd even started speaking.

Dean blinked, turning to Gabriel with a gesture towards the odd angel, but Gabriel just shook his head and waved dismissively.

"He's like this."

"Got it!"

Terriel clapped his hands so loudly that Sam jumped at the sudden sound. He watched as the sigil crafter held his palm towards the scribbles on the wall; they began to glow with white-hot brilliance that would have hurt the brothers' more fragile human shells. Without a word of explanation, Terriel grabbed the parchment he'd showed them before and held his hand over it next. The same light beamed forth, creating new shapes in the designs already there. Sam noticed the new figures were identical to what was scrawled on the wall.

"Was that… like… angelic copy/paste?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Nerd," Dean muttered before raising his voice. "Look, this is all fascinating stuff, but Cas is in  _Hell_. Let's get a move on."

"Yes, I agree," Terriel said, beckoning the two closer. "Listen carefully. As human souls, you may be powerful, but you're nothing compared to the might of Hell. This will be more dangerous for you than it was for Castiel, which is why Gabriel instructed me to craft these for you."

"What are they for?" Sam asked as he eyed the strange symbols. "And where are we supposed to draw them?"

"You're not. I'm going to carve them on  _you_."

"Wait,  _whoa_ ," Dean gasped, jerking back when Terriel raised an angel blade. "Okay, skippy, you can put that thing down."

"Dean." Gabriel stepped forward again with a frown. "You wanna help Cas or not?"

Sam pressed his lips together, then held out his arm. "Do it," he instructed Terriel.

The angel nodded, taking Sam's offered arm and pressing the blade into it until it barely broke the surface. Sam gritted his teeth as Terriel began to carve, carefully and deliberately, one of the sigils he had crafted.

"This one is for speed," he explained. The symbol glowed briefly with ringing white light when he finished, before fading to a faint red line. Moving up to Sam's shoulder and peeling the layers of plaid and cotton down, Terriel began to draw another. "This one for invisibility."

In total, there were six sigils, each with a different purpose. Most seemed straightforward; extra strength, healing. The remaining two were more complex in design, and Terriel explained them as he carefully drew the sigils on Dean as well.

"This one is for tracking," he said. "I included your energy patterns, so if you activate this sigil, it will help guide you back to each other should you find yourselves separated. The extra forms in there is Castiel. So you should be able to home in on him as well."

"So, you already know his… his energy pattern, or whatever?" Sam asked, curious.

Terriel paused in his carving, giving Sam an odd look. "Yes, of course." He raised a hand towards the wall where the sigil was drawn, gesturing. Slowly, the form separated out into a string of component figures.

Sam frowned, studying the shapes. Though he didn't recognize the sigil as a whole, these forms were more familiar. "Wait, is that Enochian writing?"

"Yes. It's Castiel's name. His energy pattern. That's what names are."

"And this one here," Gabriel explained, tapping the sheet of paper to indicate the final sigil. "This one is me. Don't use it unless you have to."

"Um… why?" Dean asked with a suspicious look.

"It gives you a link to Gabriel's power," Terriel said as he completed the last mark on Dean's torso. "Keep that link closed unless you absolutely need it. It's much more power than your soul was designed to wield, so it will drain you quickly, to the point of destruction if you're already too weak. In its unharnessed form, it should emerge as a blast that will decimate any demons around. But I must stress, only in time of great need, and only once each."

Yeah, that didn't sound good. Sam nodded. "Got it."

Shrugging back into his shirt, Dean clenched his fists and frowned. "I don't feel any stronger. Or invisible."

"That's because they only work when you activate them, dumbass," Gabriel griped. He twirled his hands, two angel blades appearing in his open palms. The archangel pushed one towards each of the Winchesters. "I made these myself, so they should work on almost anything you come across down there. Good luck."

"Wait, how do we activate the sigil things?" Dean asked, clutching the blade that was thrust into his hand.

"Terry will give you a crash course when you get there." Gabriel clapped a hand on either of their shoulders, expression sobering. "Find Cas, boys. Bring him home."

Though Sam's mind was also roiling with a thousand questions, the grave request left a stillness in the air. He locked eyes with the archangel and nodded. Another second passed, then he felt Terriel take his arm, and everything disappeared.

SPN SPN SPN

Castiel's eyes were closed, ragged breaths emerging from cracked lips. He knew better than to try moving his limbs, yet the angel still reflexively pulled against the forces that held him. His efforts were met only with the rattling of chains and a flare of pain.

"Ready for more, little angel?" a voice hissed, followed by a sharp slice down his arm with a blade.

Fire flared at Castiel's throat, shocking him into a choked cry. The metal circling his neck lit with warm energy. The angel shifted weakly in the web of chains that held him suspended upright, hovering inches above the rocky floor. Yet his mind flooded with rebellion and resolve as Castiel glared down at his captor.

"I would tell you to… go to hell," he rasped. "But in your case… it would seem… redundant."

A light clattering warned him the chains were moving, and Castiel choked again as the links connected to the metal collar pulled taut and then kept pulling. He struggled uselessly, both arms outspread and held tight, both feet fettered and unable to find purchase.

"Keep it up, Castiel. Goading me will win you no favors," the demon murmured, keeping the tension on the chain as he stepped forward into the light of the glowing metal circle. His scarred face broke into a smile as he watched Castiel struggle, before finally releasing the chain.

Castiel gasped for air, gritting his teeth when he felt his grace automatically stretch out to soothe his varied injuries. The collar glowed brighter as another trace bit of his power flowed into it, and in turn the chain it connected to took on a faint light cast. Barely a trickle, but it was still Castiel's grace—not meant for any demon to take away from him. The chain itself stretched up to a bar overhead and then tumbled down to the cavern floor. It snaked its way towards a tall glass vat, partially filled with swirling light of various color and brightness.

Instinctively, Castiel shut off his healing energy, unwilling to give his captor any more. The collar's light faded as the grace stopped flowing.

The demon looked from the chain to Castiel with a pointed smirk.

"Going on strike again?"

"You'll never collect enough for what you want," Castiel grimly declared.

Unfazed, the demon shrugged and picked up the blade he'd taken from the angel. "Not by cutting it out all at once. I went through a couple reapers already to learn that. Do you know, when I was a human—many years ago—my father kept a cow on our little farm. Sometimes we didn't have much to eat, but he never killed the cow for meat. He could have. Could have killed it to feed us for a week or so… but by keeping it alive, we had milk every single day for years."

"I'm not a cow," Castiel huffed.

The demon snorted. "My point is, as much as I'd love to slaughter you and take all your grace right now, I can get so much more out of you by keeping you alive. Maybe only a trickle at a time. A bit here…" He slashed with the blade, making Castiel cry out in pain as his torso lit with the glow of grace.

The collar flared back to life, more residue of spent grace trickling down into the chain. The demon smiled and slashed again.

"A bit there…"

Another wound opened and Castiel held back a scream. He tried to stop his body from healing, but it was difficult to fight the automatic process. He managed to force his power down again, but not before yet another trickle had been added to the swirling vat.

The demon shook his head. "Every time you use your grace, Castiel, a little bit more will be siphoned away, only to be replenished within you over time. Yes, it may seem an insurmountable amount. You might have to hang there in agony for years before that vat is even halfway filled." He leaned in and set the blade against Castiel's cheek as the angel glared back at him. "But look around you. I have nothing to do but wait."

He slashed again, and the cavern of Hell filled with Castiel's cries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To everyone who commented, gave kudos, or shared this fic as a rec, thank you from the bottom of my heart! ^_^
> 
> Some of you recognized Terriel, which makes me so happy! For anyone who's interested, Terriel is an OC that I've used before in a separate AU SPN-verse. The sigil crafters and a whole slew of head-canon about sigils feature in the first couple of fics I wrote for the SPN fandom (Where They Don't Belong and The One You Feed, as well as The Book of Gabriel). This fic isn't connected to those, just uses the same OC and head-canons. He references a bit of that history here.

The next thing Dean knew, everything was oppressively… oppressive. A horrible feeling of evil clung to him from the surrounding air. Dean recognized the sensation and knew they had arrived.

"Are you alright?" Terriel asked gently as he released his hold on the Winchesters. "This place is not kind to human souls."

"Fine," Dean muttered, taking stock of their surroundings. He frowned. "Wait, this looks different."

"We're still in the borderlands," Terriel explained. He drew his blade and turned in a slow circle, eyes darkening with distant memory. "This is where the armies of Heaven laid siege to the demon horde."

Dean's throat tightened. He felt Sam's eyes on him, but didn't say anything. He could imagine the two camps at war, the angels fighting to break through before the Righteous Man fell. They had failed. But Cas had gotten through in the end, had flown through Hell to raise him from Perdition. Dean would do the same for him now.

"Were you here?" Sam asked Terriel, who nodded.

"Yes. In a way, I feel responsible for our failure to break through sooner."

"Why?"

Terriel sighed. "Before me, all the known sigils were created by my mentor. She never told Michael or Raphael that she was teaching me. I was still young, but when Michael took charge, she told me that he must never know what I could do. In Michael's hands, the power of potential sigils would be pure destruction. So I never revealed their secrets, and stopped working on them for centuries. Until Gabriel returned, in fact, who I knew could be trusted. But perhaps if I had tried… there are so many I've since discovered that might have helped reach you more quickly."

Terriel turned to Dean sorrowfully. "So I am sorry, Dean."

Dean shook his head. He wasn't eager to revisit that dark time, but here he was, about to cross into Hell. It wasn't like he could avoid thinking about it. Even after all these years, the memories were haunting.

"Let's just do this," he said. "Cas needs us now. How do we use these things?"

The angel motioned for Sam to come closer, then held a hand over the hunter's shoulder where the invisibility sigil had been drawn. "To activate one of the sigils, you need only press it with your hand. Because I included your specific energy pattern, it will recognize this as a trigger."

Curious, Dean pressed his own invisibility sigil and immediately disappeared. "Whoa… sweet!" He held his hands in front of him, but saw nothing.

"And to deactivate, press again," Terriel instructed.

Dean did so, but frowned as he reappeared. "Shouldn't we just stay invisible, fast, strong, the whole lot?"

"Yeah, seems the best bet," Sam agreed, but Terriel shook his head.

"These sigils are manipulating your energies in ways humans are not meant to. If you were still alive, that power would rip you apart. As it is, using any of these will be taxing on your souls, and every activation will take a little more out of you. Try to go without them as much as possible."

Oh. Well that was just great, now they had these cool superpowers and they weren't even supposed to use them.

"So I would recommend only one of you tracking Castiel at a time," Terriel added. "And not continuously. Either of you may activate the healing sigils for yourself or each other, but at the expense of a little energy. Beyond that, I don't have much to offer. I have never travelled inside Hell's borders, so I'm afraid you're on your own from here."

"Wait," Sam said as he and Dean shot each other a worried look. "You mean you aren't coming?"

Terriel sighed with clear regret. "I offered, but unfortunately we believe our angelic essences must be what is drawing the attacker to first the reapers and then Castiel. My presence would be putting you at greater risk, and by extension endangering the rescue mission. I'm going to let you slip in here, then fly in to a separate part of Hell further down to hopefully draw any potential attackers off your scent."

The staunch resolve in Terriel's face held no trace of fear, though Dean knew the angel must surely be feeling it. Shifting Gabriel's blade to his other hand, Dean extended his right towards Terriel.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "It's good to know there's some angels who aren't total—" Dean broke off awkwardly as Sam heaved an exasperated sigh. Terriel didn't seem to catch the near insult, shaking the offered hand with a curious look.

"Yes?"

"Forget it…"

Sam nudged him out of the way, shaking Terriel's hand next. "Thanks for everything. I can see why Cas speaks so highly of you."

Terriel smiled, then sobered. "Human souls cannot leave on their own. If for any reason Castiel cannot raise you, get as close to the border as you can and call for me. Prayers don't travel well down here, so I won't hear you if you're too far away, but I'll be waiting." Terriel hesitated, as though reluctant to leave, but finally finished, "Please find my brother."

"Oh, we will," Dean replied, eyes hardening as he flipped the blade back into his stronger hand. "And when we do, whoever took him is gonna pay for it."

With nothing else to be said, Terriel set a hand on either of their shoulders and flew them across the border. Immediately, the angel took off again in a flurry of wingbeats to lay down another trail away from them.

Dean took a deep breath and quickly regretted it as the stench of death and despair nearly overwhelmed him—and it would only get worse the farther in they got. "Alright," he said gruffly, rolling his shoulders. "Let's go get our boy."

* * *

When the dust settled from Terriel's departure, Sam was struck by the utter emptiness left in the angel's place. The only part of Hell he had seen was the Cage itself, and then later the prison where he had found Bobby. This wasteland resembled neither, and Sam suddenly wondered just how big Hell actually was.

"Tracking sigil?" he suggested. "Just to get a general direction?"

Dean gestured for him to go ahead, so Sam pressed a hand to the symbol on his forearm. At first, it didn't seem as though anything had happened even though the mark glowed with divine light.

"So where is he?" Dean snapped impatiently.

Sam waved him off with a frown, concentrating. His raised hand reached out and found Dean's arm; some tension deep within him immediately released and flitted away.

Dean glared at him. "Good job, you found  _me_. We need to find  _Cas_."

"Do  _you_ want to navigate? I haven't exactly done this before," Sam reminded him tetchily. "Hang on a sec." Closing his eyes, the hunter tried to sort through the myriad of sensations he felt. Dean's presence burned like a beacon in his mind, but he brushed that aside in search of a similar tension to the first. Far down, a thrum of energy pulled at his attention. It felt like blue-white light and the brush of feathers. It felt like Cas.

Sam slumped with relief. "I think I feel him! He's alive," he gasped.

"Okay," Dean murmured, exhaling slowly. "Okay, that- that's something. Where?"

Shaking his head, Sam replied, "It's hard to tell. The feeling is pretty faint." Yet there was a definite pull, almost an urging to point his feet a little to the right and start moving. "I think we should go this way."

Dean shrugged, twirling the angel blade into an overhand grip and casting a suspicious look around them. "Lead on," he said. "The sooner we find Cas and get out of here, the better."

Sam couldn't argue that. Feeling for the pull deep inside him, the hunter tried to grasp it like a string connecting him to Cas. If he turned in a different direction, the tension got stronger, as though to reel him back the right way.

"Where are all the demons?" he murmured, gazing about the barren wasteland. Out here, his voice fell flat and dampened, which at least meant stealth would be easier.

"Wherever they are, let's hope they stay there," Dean pointed out with a snort.

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw his brother's knuckles whiten slightly. "You okay being here? I mean after… you know."

Dean exhaled a short puff of annoyance and snapped, "Can we focus on the mission?"

"I'm just saying-"

"You're always just saying. Why don't you try not saying?"

Before Sam could fire back any kind of retort, the space in front of him suddenly bent in a nearly instantaneous swirl, heralded by the soft whoosh of displaced air. Before he'd even registered what he'd seen and heard, a demon was standing in front of him.

"Humans," it hissed as Sam yelled out in surprise and jumped backwards into Dean. "And what might you be doing so near the border? Human souls aren't supposed to be out wandering around."

"We're here for an angel," Dean snapped in reply. "Seen one?"

"Angel," the demon repeated with a sneer. "Does this look like a place for angels?" It threw out a hand, unseen power shooting out to knock the brothers to the ground.

Sam tried to get his blade up to throw, but the demon was stronger. Its hand clenched, and Sam felt the pressure holding him down multiply. "Dean!" he cried.

"Dean!" the demon mocked in a high falsetto. He stalked towards Sam. "Big brother can't save you now, Winchester. Yes, I know exactly who you are.  _Every_ demon knows who to blame for leaving us stuck in Hell. How fortunate for me, that I found you first-"

"Cram it with walnuts," Dean gritted out. While the demon's attention had been diverted just enough, the hunter had managed to inch his hand closer to his bicep and then force his palm over it. From beneath his shirt, the light of his strength sigil flared to life.

The demon turned to him with a frown. "What is that?" he demanded. "What are you doing?"

Dean's expression turned to a dark smirk as he started to force himself up a bit at a time, the strength sigil giving him enough power to push back against the demon's hold. "Just a little something new."

"What- but that's… How-?" The demon strode closer to Dean, hand still held out in an effort to push the hunter back to the rocky floor.

"You thought we'd come unprepared?" Dean demanded. "I told you… we're here for an angel. And Heaven is pissed enough they sent  _us_."

Sam struggled to fight against the demon's power, but without his strength sigil activated, he couldn't push through it. He contented himself instead to watch the rising panic in the demon's eyes. Dean's teeth were gritted now, muscles visibly bulging as he forced himself up.

Then, with one last, feral yell, Dean launched himself forward. The blade cut a silver arch through the air; wrathful, orange-white light spurted in the demon's frame as it screamed with agony and shock. Its suffering was short-lived, bursting into a pile of smoldering ash.

Immediately, Sam felt the hold on him release. He scrambled to his feet, brushing off residue of the dead demon as a chthonic breeze scattered the dust. Sam took several deep breaths as he whirled towards his brother. "Dean?"

He wasn't surprised to see Dean turn his way with an elated grin.

"Did you see that?" the hunter crowed, glancing down at his glowing arm. He laughed. "I mean, did you  _see that_? Man, these things are great! Looks like you're losing your touch though, Sammy. Guess you should have been staying in practice with that simulation room after all, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. You good?"

"Good? I'm  _awesome_!"

Leave it to his brother to get so enthusiastic about a new weapon that he missed the point. Sam heaved a sigh. "I mean," he specified, "Terriel said using the sigils would be 'taxing'. Like, it would drain us every time we activated one. Do you feel…?"

"Dude, quit raining on my parade. It was all of thirty seconds. I feel fine." Still, Dean pressed his hand over the sigil again, and both brothers watched as the glow faded then disappeared. "At least we know it works. Terry's good."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, no kidding."

"What about you?" Dean pointed out, jerking his chin towards Sam's glowing forearm. "That tracking sigil taking it out of you?"

Taking a breath, giving himself a moment to evaluate his energy as honestly as possible, Sam felt for any hint of lethargy. He shook his head. "No, not yet. Mostly I just feel like I'm being pulled in a certain direction, so I guess that's a good sign Cas is hanging in there."

Dean sobered. "Of course he is. Cas is a fighter." He twirled the blade then shifted it once again into a ready grip. "So lead the way."

* * *

No matter how hard Castiel tried not to use any of his grace, either to heal himself or test the chains that held him suspended, the demon had still managed to collect a significant portion through the collar that fed into the enclosed vat. The ethereal blue illuminated the harsh backdrop of bare rock and unforgiving stone. Castiel swallowed as he closed his eyes against the image of his own power slowly siphoning away.

"You'd feel so much better if you'd just let yourself heal," the demon pointed out.

Castiel opened his eyes to glare at his captor. The demon stood by the vat, studying the swirling grace inside with a musing expression.

"Even if you could collect enough of my grace," Castiel spat out, "you can't possibly think it'll do any good. Destroying Heaven would take far more power than that of one angel."

"Don't fret over it," the demon suggested, unconcerned. "Once I have what I need, Heaven will be finished."

"How would you even use it? If you try to absorb that grace, you'd essentially be smiting yourself. Surely you already know that."

The demon turned to him with an impatient frown. "Yes, of course I know that, Castiel. I know more about angels than you think. How else would I have known how to capture you? Or the reapers? I know plenty, not least of which is that you arrogant, winged bastards all deserve the death I'm going to give you."

Castiel shook his head; the chains of his collar clinked at the movement. "I don't understand your anger," he murmured. "You said it was personal. And when the reaper said my name when you captured us, you  _knew_  me… yet I've never seen you before. Why are you doing this? Because we closed the Hellgates?"

With a snort, the demon strode back towards the bound angel. "Closing Hell made things harder, I'll give you that. Of course you wouldn't know me, I'm not one of your precious Winchesters. Everyone knows they're the only things you care about."

Narrowing his eyes, Castiel retorted, "What do Sam and Dean have to do with this?"

"Don't pretend to care about my story!" the demon suddenly shouted, whipping out the angel blade and pressing it to Castiel's chest. "You didn't care when I was alive, and you don't care now!"

"What do you mean I didn't care when you were alive?"

The demon's eyes flicked black and he slashed a deep score down Castiel's torso, rending yet another ribbon of fabric and flesh. Castiel screamed in the ensuing flash of light. Taken by surprise, he couldn't stop the flowing grace in time and his collar flared to life as more power was filtered away into the collecting vat.

"Hey, Laz, I brought another batch."

A second demon appeared in the cavern, holding an old wooden box. He paused when he saw Castiel, and the feral grin illuminated in the light of stolen grace made him look even more diabolical. "How're you getting on with that one?"

"He's still trying to hold out," Laz snapped, clearly not mollified in the slightest. "How many did you bring?"

"Eleven souls, only been here a decade or so. Still fresh."

Laz nodded towards a rocky shelf. "Leave them there. Don't go too far when you're done, though… I've almost got enough grace to start experimenting."

"Want me to bring the reapers?"

Castiel held his breath, forcing his own pain down as he waited for the answer. He hadn't seen the reaper who'd accompanied him to Hell since they were captured, but had hoped his fellow celestial being was alright. The word "experimenting" chilled his very blood, even in the heat of Hell.

Laz, however, shook his head. "Not yet."

With a shrug, the second demon headed over to the shelf, already lined with several other boxes. He set his burden down, then came to grin up at Castiel.

"I could take a turn with him. Bet you'd love that, wouldn't you, sweetheart? Just you and ol' Vince."

Castiel didn't rise to the bait, merely met the demon's eyes with cold aloofness. He'd learned early on that while Laz was the mastermind of the duo, Vince was the sadist. Castiel would relish killing him whenever he worked himself free.  _If_ he could work himself free.

"Later," Laz assured him. "Go check on the reapers. The newest one was starting to get feisty."

"Oh, I'll take care of that."

Vince turned and disappeared, though not with one more leer up at Castiel. It made the angel's skin crawl.

"You should open up your grace," Laz shot at Castiel. "You can give it to me willingly, or Vince can rip it out of you splinters at a time. Your call."

" _Willingly_ aid a demon in destroying Heaven and all the innocent souls in it?" Castiel demanded. He snorted and then winced in pain as the wound in his chest continued to seep blood. "You can't honestly believe I won't fight you every step of the way."

"What I can't honestly believe," Laz retorted with a scowl, "is that you would dare claim to care about those 'innocent souls'. I once asked you for help saving an innocent soul. You refused. You feathered monsters don't care about anything but yourselves." He raised the tip of the blade to the bare skin between the collar and Castiel's chin. "So yes. I think you  _will_ give me your grace, once the pain is more than you can bear."

Castiel didn't allow his gaze to drop, though the feel of his own blood hot against his neck left him with a shudder of dread. Thinking of Heaven, he replied, "I can bear more than you might imagine."

Laz smiled. "Is that so? Let's find out."

Close by, a high-pitched ringing pierced the air, jolting Castiel in surprise as the brief thought flashed through his mind that he was hearing his own grace exploding in death. But the ringing wasn't coming from him, and the blade hadn't slit his skin. His eyes roamed the cavern in confusion as Laz yanked back with a sharp exhale.

" _Yes_ ," the demon hissed.

"Laz!" Vince shouted, racing back in. "The alarms!"

Laz nodded and pressed the blade into Vince's hands. "Another angel passed the border." His gaze turned to Castiel and he smiled darkly. "Some well-meaning rescue attempt, no doubt. But I'll catch them like I caught you. Imagine how much faster this will go when I have  _two_ angels to drain."

No, Castiel thought frantically, biting back the fear creeping into his heart. Laz couldn't be allowed to get his hands on any more angels. How could Gabriel have sent another after him? They didn't have the numbers to spare even one! And with another angel as leverage, Laz would soon find out that Castiel could be so easily controlled if it eased the suffering of a sibling…

"Stay with this one," Laz ordered Vince as he grabbed a set of chains. He disappeared in a blur, and Vince turned towards Castiel.

With a grin, the demon raised the blade and licked the bloodied edge.

"It'll be my pleasure…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aini NuFire made me a fantastic storyboard graphic for this fic, btw!  
> https://aini-nufire.tumblr.com/post/175930177471/storyboard-for-29-piecess-fic-facilis-descensus


	3. Chapter 3

****

Dean was starting to recognize more of the scenery.

Not that Alastair had let him out much, aside from their sojourns to various prisons and strongholds so the demon could show off his prize pupil—god, how it made Dean's skin crawl and his pulse flutter in panic just to think about. But still, the area felt familiar. Maybe some subconscious part of him still remembered Cas flying him out, or else maybe it just  _looked_  like one would imagine Hell should look.

The barren wastelands of the border had fallen behind them, and the air had turned to a thick, noxious plume that hung over their heads and obscured the rest of their surroundings from view. The ground here was cracked and riddled with crevices. Already, the heat was suffocating.

Other than the first demon they'd encountered, though, the place could easily have been empty. In all directions, there was no sight nor sound of anything or anyone.

"Still going the right way?" he asked Sam, a few steps ahead of him.

"I turned it off," Sam replied as he came to a halt and pressed a hand to his forearm. His eyes closed in a tight frown, but after a second, he nodded. "Yeah, and it's getting a little easier to feel him." Sam shrugged. "So either I'm getting the hang of this, or we're getting closer."

Good. The sooner they found Cas and got out, the better. Dean didn't want to think about what shape Cas might be in. He couldn't imagine any demon standing a chance against the fierce angel, especially since Gabriel had restored him to full power.

"Do you think-"

"Sammy." Dean's eyes narrowed as his hand shot out and grabbed his brother's sleeve.

Both hunters froze, heads cocked slightly. Sam's brow furrowed as the previous emptiness was replaced by a quiet whistling noise that was steadily getting louder.

"What is that?" Sam asked. He gasped and clapped a hand to his ears as the whistle turned into a shriek.

Dean's eyes widened. "MOVE!"

Throwing himself at his brother, Dean managed to tackle Sam to the ground and roll them both out of the way just in time for the ground to erupt where they had been standing only a second before. A geyser of burning orange spewed into the sky. Where the magma landed, the cracked ground sizzled and steamed.

Dean rolled off of Sam and scrambled back, gasping at how close that had been. Sam's eyes were huge as his limbs flailed to also get further away.

"What the-"

"Yeah," Dean growled. "Remember when we were kids and we used to pretend the floor was lava?"

Sam's wide eyes shifted to him. Dean shrugged.

"Well, guess what. It is."

"Right. Good." Sam heaved himself up then canted his head towards the sky. "Looks like it's not so thick through here, though."

Together, the two hurried forward a few more paces, only to hear the whistling start again. This time, it accelerated into a whine in barely a second, before the ground once again belched up a fiery spew. Dean gritted his teeth.

The cloud had definitely thinned out, though, or else it was just much higher in the air, riding on the heated currents from the magma geysers. The space in front of them was clearly visible now, and Dean's heart sank.

"Aw, come on!" he snapped as Sam stuttered to a halt beside him.

Lava was spurting up everywhere, plume after plume of the fiery, molten liquid erupting upwards in columns even higher than Sam's head. Rust colored droplets burned the ground as they fell, wreathing the scene in foul-smelling steam. The entire field whistled and popped with each explosion.

"Dean, look at the ground," Sam urged.

About to retort that he was more concerned with everything  _above_ the ground, Dean nevertheless glanced down and immediately wished he hadn't.

Where the rocky crevices had been black and dry before, he could now see the river of magma running beneath the surface.

"So… don't step on the cracks." Except for the entire field out there was nothing  _but_ cracks and spewing lava. Great.

"And this, over here," Sam exclaimed, hurrying a few feet over to what looked like a pile of dirt.

As Dean leaned in closer, though, that didn't seem quite right. "Is that…"

"Ash." Sam's head whipped up as he glanced around. "I think, um… I think this is a demon who wasn't fast enough."

"Huh. That'd make sense." Dean's stomach tightened as he gestured a few yards further. "Same goes for that guy." Then one to their left. "And that one." Oh god, there were ash piles  _everywhere_. Dean forced a chuckle. "So, uh, maybe we can find a detour-"

"Dean, behind you!"

The hunter whirled, but not fast enough. He heard the attack before he saw it, a high, primal screech that preceded an eruption of agony in his arm. Dean bellowed in pain, lashing out with the angel blade. The monster ducked beneath his swing as its talons dug deeper into Dean's arm and then tore. He screamed as fire flashed through his veins. This time when he struck out with the blade, it rent a gash in the creature's side, making it howl and back away. Holy light sputtered inside its skeletal body, then it fell to the ground.

Dean had just enough time to get a better look at the hideous thing—long-limbed and gaunt, with short, bat-like wings extending from its shoulder blades—before a furious chittering and rattling made him look up in dismay.

"Uh… Dean…"

Sam grabbed his shirt and started tugging backwards as the fog they'd been walking through before darkened with moving shapes. Dean stared in disbelief.

"Guess we're not gonna find another way around…"

"Speed sigil!" Sam gasped. "Run!"

Dean slapped a hand over the sigil, thankfully not ruined by the monster's raking claws, just in time to see an entire horde of the creatures spilling out of the smog. With their safe escape cut off, the only direction they could turn was straight into the magma field.

Everything slowed down. Which was weird, Dean thought, since it had been a  _speed_  sigil, until he connected that it only  _seemed_ slow because he was going so fast. To his right, the ground shook and roared as a bubble of molten gold burbled and then burst up in a high column that he dodged with a gasp. The whistles sounded more like a deafening buzz. Dean could also hear an insistent pulsing; chancing a look over his shoulder, he realized it was the wing-beats of the monsters as they flew after the hunters.

Another geyser sprayed up behind him, moving in slow motion, but clearly fast enough to catch one of the monsters directly in its plume. Dean watched the creature disintegrate piece by piece into ash with a long, low howl.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, the only other thing moving as fast as him.

Dean's head whipped back around, and his eyes widened as he side-stepped another vent he'd been about to cross, before it erupted as well. Right. The monsters were bad, but the magma would kill them first.

Together, the two ran across the dangerous plain in a full-out sprint. They dodged geyser after geyser, some far too close for comfort and leaving Dean to hope wildly that all his body parts were still with him. The shrieking monsters were still in pursuit, but he'd heard more than one squawk end up cut off by a burst of lava.

"Sam! Over there!"

The magma field was starting to thin out at last, the fog and haze further lifting to reveal high rock walls and cliff faces. If they could just reach the rocky outcroppings, maybe they could lose the rest of their attackers. Risking another look back, Dean saw that the horde had already vastly thinned out; even as he watched, some of the monsters wheeled back and flew off through the clouds. The few that remained were falling behind, unable to compete with the hunters' enhanced speed.

Thank goodness, because the prolonged burst of energy was starting to take its toll the way the short use of the strength sigil hadn't. Dean had to force himself forward as the brothers finally hit firmer ground. The crevices and geysers disappeared behind them now as they raced into the fallen rocks.

Dean vaulted several of the boulders, then dodged around to press his back against a towering mound that offered a little shelter. Sam joined him, gasping for breath and hurriedly deactivating his speed sigil. Dean did the same. His head spun as the world seemed to speed up again, taking a second to sort itself out in his mind.

"Shh," Dean hissed in warning before Sam could say anything. They held perfectly still, listening with all their might. After several long moments with no sight or sound of the monsters, Dean slumped and slid down to the ground with a gasp. "Damn it, that was close."

"You're bleeding."

Sam crouched down next to him and took Dean's arm; fire lanced through his limbs and Dean nearly came off the ground as he swore.

"Yeah," he grunted through gritted teeth. "That little bastard got me good.  _Damn it_ , that hurts." Come to think of it, he really hoped those creatures didn't have poison in their claws, because surely it shouldn't hurt this bad. "Hang on a sec."

Pulling his shirt down, Dean pressed the sigil on his shoulder.

It didn't make him feel any better, but he did disappear from view.

"That's the invisibility one," Sam snapped at him, as though Dean couldn't see that.

Or… couldn't  _not_ see it?

"Thanks, genius!" he snapped back, pushing it again to reappear. "How am I supposed to know the difference? They all look the same."

"They look  _nothing_  alike!"

"Oh, give me a break, Sam. Which one is it?"

Impatiently, Sam reached in and pressed the symbol drawn over Dean's heart. "It's this one!"

The throbbing started to ease, waves of pain ebbing away into a dull ache. The blood cleared away, and then the horrific gashes began to stitch themselves back together. Finally, his arm felt good as new, though Sam slumped back with a vaguely dizzy look, drained even further.

"You do remember which one  _not_  to push, right?" he groused at Dean even as his eyes fluttered closed. "The one that could blow everything up? It's the one on your torso. Don't use that one."

"Yeah, yeah."

They lapsed into silence after that, worn out from the race through the lava field, and then Sam healing him. Dean hated to say it, but maybe it was time to take Terriel's warning more seriously, and not use the sigils if they could help it.

"You gonna make it?" he asked Sam, giving his brother a nudge. "We shouldn't stay here."

Sam nodded and opened his eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'm fine."

Time to be moving on.

* * *

 

Castiel gritted his teeth against another round of pain, fighting with everything he had not to make a sound. Vince clearly prided himself in eliciting screams, and though he'd succeeded more than once now, Castiel had by and large managed to remain stoic.

Unfortunately, that enraged the demon even more, and he'd collected a fair amount of grace from Castiel by the time Laz reappeared in a whirl of smoke and irritation. Vince's eyes flicked back from their pure black abyss as he yanked the blade out of Castiel's side. The angel groaned softly but slumped into the chains with relief: Laz was empty-handed.

"So?" Vince asked eagerly, brandishing the angel blade that dripped red with blood. "Got a new toy?"

"No," Laz retorted as he tossed the empty chains back to the floor with an echoing clang. "No sign of another angel anywhere." He glanced up at Castiel and shrugged. "Guess they decided you weren't worth the effort after all."

"I'd rather suffer a hundred deaths than subject any of my kin to putting up with you," Castiel muttered back, voice cracking with the attempt to keep it steady. His mind raced, though; if an angel  _had_ crossed into Hell, what had they been doing?

Laz didn't reply beyond a sneer, then turned his attention towards the vat of grace. He nodded in approval. "You've been busy."

Vince's teeth flashed. "He's been forthcoming."

Had Castiel found the demon worth his time to correct on that score, he might have done so, but Vince eliminated the possibility with a cruel slice down Castiel's side. The angel bit back a groan and forced his power away from the wound so that no more of his grace would be collected. Vince narrowed his eyes but Laz ignored all of this.

"We have enough to be getting on with some more experiments," he decided. "Go bring me the newest one."

With one last dark glower at Castiel, Vince threw the blade down onto the rock ledge with a clatter and stormed away.

Though Castiel's mind worked frantically, he could think of no way to spare the reaper from whatever "experiments" Laz might have in store. He yanked at the chains holding him suspended once again, but they had yet to reveal the slightest weakness. Whatever Laz was planning, Castiel couldn't stop it.

Castiel's heart pounded as Vince returned, manhandling a reaper along with him. Theodore, the one who had guided him there.

"Castiel!" the reaper shouted as he was dragged in. "You promised I'd be safe! You said if I led you in, you'd make sure nothing happened to me!"

"Chain him down," Laz instructed with callous disregard.

Theodore's gaze held accusation that tore Castiel's heart as the reaper repeated, "You said you'd protect me!"

"Laz," Castiel spoke up, eyes fixed on the reaper he had failed to keep safe. "Whatever you want… just use me."

"That's all very touching," Laz retorted flatly as Vince forced Theodore to his knees and manacled his hands to the stone floor facing Castiel. "But for this, I need a reaper, not an angel."

Chains jangled as Theodore tried to fight free with no success. "No, no please!" he gasped. "What do you want? The other reapers…"

"Relax," Laz interrupted. "I'll leave you whole. For now."

Castiel's throat tightened with dismay, but neither Laz nor Theodore expanded on exactly what condition the other reapers were in, or what Laz meant by leaving Theodore whole. The angel pulled forward as far as the metal collar would allow, before falling slack again with defeat and guilt.

"You don't have to do this," he pleaded as Laz rummaged around on his shelf of tools. "Listen to me. You can-"

"Vince." Laz nodded over his shoulder towards the other demon, who gleefully grabbed hold of the chain connecting to Castiel's collar. He gave it a vicious jerk so that it pulled taut, looped over the rod above his head.

The metal circle closed off Castiel's airway, leaving him to choke and writhe in the chains in an attempt to find purchase. None of his struggles did the slightest good to protect the reaper he'd been sworn to watch over in exchange for his assistance. Embittered tears of failure were squeezed out of Castiel's eyes by the tight, noose-like collar as Laz found what he was looking for and strode towards the vat.

If Castiel could breathe, he would have gasped as he recognized the same grace extracting device that he had once used on Sam, after Gadreel. A Men of Letters instrument. But what was it doing here in Hell? He watched as Laz unscrewed the syringe barrel from the needle and attached it to a spigot on the glass vat.

The demon pressed the lever to allow grace to flow from the container to the syringe, the glowing white-blue dazzling in the darkness of Hell. The syringe filled quickly, then Laz shut off the flow and reattached the needle.

"Now hold still," he instructed Theodore, moving forward and grabbing the back of the reaper's head to yank his chin up. He jabbed the needle into Theodore's exposed throat and started depressing the plunger.

The reaper screamed. Castiel watched with bulging eyes, helplessly struggling in the chains, but Vince only jerked harder on the metal leash in warning. No one spoke as Theodore fell silent with a shudder and slumped.

"Hmm," Laz murmured. "So a reaper can safely contain angel grace without being incinerated."

"We- we are celestial beings," Theodore whispered. "But we aren't meant to have grace-"

"But you are closely related to angels, after all. How much can you hold, I wonder?"

"No-" Theodore was cut off with another scream as Laz injected the remainder of the grace. His throat lit with streaks of light that disappeared into his body, but clearly not without agony.

Castiel could well imagine the pain it must have been causing. Even when he had once taken another angel's grace into himself, it had left him sick and weakened. A reaper would be even less compatible with the power of an angel, not meant to play host to that kind of celestial energy. He held his breath, hoping it wouldn't be enough to destroy the reaper, but Theodore finally slumped down once again.

"Fascinating," Laz said, stroking his chin and taking a step back. "Very good. That will be a nice addition to the souls. Originally, the plan was  _only_ to use souls, but who am I to pass up another power source when it flies into my lap?"

Vince snickered and released the end of the chain he held, finally allowing Castiel some slack to breathe.

He coughed and gasped for air before gritting out, "If you want a vessel to house the power you need, use  _me_. I carried an archangel, so I can-"

"So self-sacrificing," Laz snarled, though Castiel couldn't fathom why this would enrage the demon as it seemed to. "A pity you didn't care more when you had the chance. No, Castiel, your sole function is to provide me with grace, nothing more. Now then, reaper, how many souls are you carrying?"

"Wh-what?" Theodore raised his head, eyes crinkled with pain even as they emitted the tell-tale glow of grace.

Laz back-handed him across the face, eliciting another groan of pain before snapping, "You ferry souls, do you not? How many are you holding right now? Do you want to end up like the other reapers?"

"None!" Theodore cried out, shrinking back in fear. "None, I swear!"

Vince snorted and started forward. "Want me to start with the eyes, like the others?"

"No,  _please_!"

"He's telling the truth!" Castiel shouted, stomach turning over as he wondered again what had become of the other reapers. "Laz, he doesn't have any souls. He left them in the care of Heaven before leading me down here."

Laz heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, but waved Vince away. "Fine. We'll use some of mine." Retreating to the back wall, the demon picked up the wooden box that Vince had brought in, containing the souls he had gathered in Hell. He grabbed the angel blade on the way back to Theodore, then set the box down on the floor beside one of the reaper's chained hands. With the blade pressing tightly against Theodore's throat, he demanded, "Take them in."

The reaper hesitated, looking up at Castiel. With no idea where this was going, and loathe to see any more harm come to him, Castiel gave him a short nod.

Theodore looked down at the box and opened it, closing his eyes as eleven balls of dull, greyish light were pulled up and into him, doomed souls halfway to becoming demons themselves. The reaper's face tightened, sweat beginning to drip down his temples.

Laz watched the reaper for a second as though waiting for something, but then finally nodded. "As I suspected. It was too risky to keep both the grace and the souls in the same container together, given the risk of combustion."

The very reason it had been such a dangerous feat to touch Bobby Singer's soul when Castiel had needed power: contact between grace and a human soul could end… badly. With the exception of an angel and the soul of their vessel, the two power sources didn't mix well. But Theodore seemed to be alright.

"You must contain the souls separately from the celestial essence," Laz went on, gripping the reaper's chin and forcing his face upwards for his inspection. "One final test and I'll be finished with you for the moment: I'm giving you a two minute head start."

Theodore blinked, still ashen as he rasped, "I- I don't understand…"

Laz stepped back and set the angel blade down, then gestured to the reaper with a smirk. "Go on. This is your one chance. You get loose, and I give you two minutes before coming after you. You could escape. Even flit off back to Heaven. I won't stop you."

The reaper's eyes widened and he jerked against the chains with desperation written in every line of his face. Nothing happened. His breath hitched, a sob bursting from his throat as he fought to break free.

Castiel turned his head from the cruel sight, suspecting Laz had already known the outcome of this experiment. There was no reason to have given Theodore false hope; reapers could contain the power of angels, but they couldn't use it any more than they could tap into the souls they carried. Reapers had been built as ferries, not battleships.

"Shame," Laz said after a long moment, nodding to Vince.

The other demon grabbed Theodore, holding him still so that Laz could snatch up the syringe and once again plunge it into the reaper's neck, drawing the grace back out. Theodore's screams rocked the cavern and Castiel's heart.

Fortunately, the extraction was quick. To Castiel's surprise, Laz didn't return the grace to the vat, but rather stepped over to him instead. The demon unscrewed the glass barrel of the syringe once again and held it up towards Castiel's face, allowing him to open his mouth and breathe in the swirl of his own stolen grace.

It didn't add nearly enough power to break free of the sigiled chains, but it did make him feel a little stronger. Castiel shot his captor a suspicious look.

"Gotta keep your strength up," Laz pointed out with a cold smile. "It'll help you generate more for me. Vince, take the reaper back to the holding cell with the others."

"Castiel," Theodore whispered as Vince undid his hands. "You… you promised."

The angel could find no answer, watching with grief as Theodore was dragged away. It had been a long time since he had so horribly failed a mission given to him by divine duty. It had been a long time since he'd so fully remembered the shame and guilt of such failing. And now Theodore was paying the price.

When the reaper had disappeared with Vince, Castiel turned his gaze back towards Laz, only to find the demon watching him with anger bubbling beneath black eyes.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Laz asked. He picked the blade back up. "Good. Because you did this to yourself, Castiel."

His face darkened. "But you'll atone."


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel watched the demon approach with no small amount of trepidation. The bit of grace he'd gotten back wouldn't be nearly enough to stop the pain if Laz decided to continue trying to force him to use his power. The angel knew he could handle it, but he really didn't want to.

"That was a Men of Letters device you used," he spoke up, hoping to distract the demon. "How did you get it? Did Crowley-"

"Crowley?" Laz cut him off with a snort. "Please. As though Crowley would have had the brains to devise something like this."

"Devise? You're saying you made that?" Castiel's breath caught as he regarded the demon. " _You_  were Men of Letters, weren't you?"

Laz blinked, coal-black eyes revealing themselves as he moved swiftly in to press the point of the angel blade up into Castiel's chin. "Surprised?" he hissed.

Castiel's head tipped back to avoid the sharpened edge, but his eyes narrowed in on Laz. "The Men of Letters were scholars, noble men. Yet you're here in Hell. What happened?"

"Don't!" Laz suddenly shouted, yanking the blade away to send his fist flying into Castiel's stomach instead. "Don't… pretend… to… care!"

Each word was accented by another blow, but the angel couldn't even double over from the way he was restrained. He heaved and gasped for air but couldn't catch his breath before Laz had a hand clenched in Castiel's hair, the point of the blade digging into his throat even more threateningly.

"Don't you stand there and act like you're interested in my story," the demon seethed.

"I  _do_ want to know," Castiel pressed, coughing and wincing against the bruising of his ribs. "You- you said this was my own fault. You said I didn't care about you when you were a human. You want to destroy Heaven and all the angels in it. Forgive me for thinking you must have a  _reason_ for such wanton genocide!"

"You're damn right I have a reason!" Laz bellowed as his grip tightened. "I'm going to find my wife, and  _none_ of you are going to stop me!"

The demon jerked back and spun away from Castiel. Even from the back, the shaking of his shoulders was clearly visible. His deep, shuddering breaths came audibly through even the thickness of Hell's atmosphere, and if Castiel wasn't mistaken, he actually sounded aggrieved.

Sensing this was a dangerous line of questioning, Castiel nevertheless managed to ask, "Your wife… is in Heaven?"

"No thanks to  _you._ You useless angels… you did  _nothing_. I prayed unendingly for  _months_  with no answer. A lowly human like me, like  _her_ , we didn't even warrant your attention."

Taking another breath, Castiel replied, "I'm sorry about your wife. You wouldn't be the first human to pray for a loved one to be returned-"

"No!" Laz roared as he spun again and pointed an accusing finger in the angel's direction. "Don't you even open your mouth, angel, when you have  _no_ idea! You think I just wanted her brought back to life?" He gestured wildly to himself and yelled, "I was Men of Letters! I know that people die, and that it's hard, but we have to go on! She didn't die, she was  _taken_!"

Castiel's eyes narrowed, trying to understand, clearly able to see the genuine emotion in Laz's face. It wouldn't be the first time he'd met a demon who was still capable of real feeling, but they were few and far between.

Laz shook his head and looked away. "It was a routine exorcism," he murmured. "Rose was there when those hunters brought the demon in. But it went wrong and she was taken to Hell along with the demon. She was  _innocent_. She was  _good_. She didn't belong in Hell, but none of you intervened. None of you!"

This time when Laz's head snapped back to face Castiel, the angel saw the growing pit of darkness reflected back at him from the blackened eyes. He swallowed, seeing the pain that had festered for hundreds of years until it had become rage and vengeance.

"I prayed for months," the demon repeated as he raised the blade again. "Trying to tell you what happened, sure that the angels—so  _good_ and  _righteous_ —would never let an innocent human suffer in Hell. But nobody answered me. So finally I did the only thing I could."

"You made a demon deal."

"I shouldn't have  _needed_ to ask for a demon's help. It was  _your_ job. But I did what I had to; her soul was given to a reaper to carry to Heaven, and I took her place." Laz took one step closer, then another. "And you know what? I had made my peace with it. I decided, no one had seen an angel in thousands of years, perhaps they just don't intervene anymore. Perhaps they  _can't_."

The demon came to a stop, then flipped the blade in his hand and held it to Castiel's cheek, just below his eye. When he grinned, it flooded his expression with fury rather than humor.

"But then," he finished, "then, Castiel… Dean Winchester."

 _Oh_ … Castiel inhaled deeply without taking his eyes away from Laz as the demon pressed the blade in hard enough to break skin.

Laz studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Turns out, the angels  _can_ rescue souls from Hell. They just didn't care about my Rosie. Or me.  _You_ saved Dean, Castiel. You could have saved her. But no one did, just like no one's going to save you now, while I burn all the angels into dust and find my wife."

It was a tragedy, Castiel thought, that if not for the collar and chains, the vat of grace, and the still bleeding gashes across his body, he might have felt pity for this demon. His sacrifice had been a noble one, not unlike a Winchester. His wife, it sounded, had truly not deserved the fate and he had rescued her. The angel sighed.

"No demon can pass the gates of Heaven," he said. "And even if they could, you could never generate enough power to destroy it."

"You sure about that?" the demon retorted with a casual shrug. "Because the way  _I_ hear, big brother Gabriel is the only thing holding that place together. I only need enough to kill him. One good shot."

Castiel's heartbeat quickened; the problem was, Laz was right. Killing Gabriel would be tantamount to destroying Heaven in its present state, and there was a very real chance this demon could actually pull it off. "It would change nothing," he tried again. "If Heaven falls, Rose will be lost as well."

Laz sneered. "Then she and all the other souls up there will be free at last. Besides… out of all the angels,  _you_ were the one I caught?" The demon stepped away, twirling the blade and tossing it onto the shelf. As he retreated out of the cavern, his voice echoed back to Castiel, "Clearly, fate is finally on my side."

* * *

 

Sam tried to ignore how much heavier he felt as they left the rocks behind, replaced by a forest of brambles. Healing Dean had taken more energy than he'd expected. He left the tracking sigil off for now, only activating it every few minutes to make sure they shouldn't veer in another direction—although they were mostly at the mercy of the thicket now, moving wherever there was space. At least it was highly unlikely anyone would pursue them in here.

"I see something up ahead," he mentioned in a low voice, better able to see over the tops of the thorny branches. "There's some kind of… I don't know, castle?"

The turrets stood silhouetted against a smoggy green sky, very different from the hot orange from before. It made Sam shiver, tendrils of unease racing up his spine at the unnatural sight, lit periodically by flashes of lightning. They were still too far away for him to make out many details of the structure, but they seemed to be moving steadily closer.

Dean was silent, but after a moment, he muttered, "It's the eastern tower."

Sam waited, but his brother didn't offer any more explanation. The question was on the tip of Sam's tongue to ask how he knew that. One look at Dean's face left him deciding against it, though. Instead, he murmured,

"The sigil has us going straight for it. I wonder if that's where they took Cas."

Again, it took Dean a minute to respond. His voice had dropped several degrees as he grunted, "I hope not."

Neither of them spoke again, continuing to twist through the bramble thicket that snagged and pulled at them, as though trying to hold them back. The flashes of lightning continued; it took Sam a while to realize that he hadn't heard any thunder yet. Try as he might, he couldn't stop shiver after shiver from wracking his body, in spite of the heat that permeated the air. He shuddered to think that Cas might have been held prisoner in this horrible place for over a week now.

"Are you sure this is where we're supposed to go?" Dean finally broke the silence as the brambles began to thin, what seemed like hours from when they'd set off from the rocks. He slowed to a halt, both of them peering through the clearing to see the now enormous tower hovering above them.

If Sam had thought it possible for his brother to be afraid of anything, he might have thought Dean was holding back terror.

Without waiting for Sam to activate his sigil again to check, Dean pressed his own and closed his eyes. Sam waited, noting his brother's breath hitch.

"Shit," Dean whispered, face pale in the lightning and smoky green.

"For all we know, we just need to get to the other side," Sam pointed out. "Maybe we should take a quick break. I'm know I'm pretty beat-"

"No," Dean interrupted. He took a shuddering breath, then nodded. "Okay. If they do have Cas, we gotta get in there,  _now_. The front entrance is on the other side, but trust me… we don't wanna go that way."

Sam nodded, still refraining from asking how Dean knew so much about the place. "Is there another way in?"

"Not any other doors, no. But that outer wall isn't too high and it's not smooth stone. I think we can scale it."

Sam cast another glance towards the tower, seeing now that Dean was right: the wall itself was probably no more than two stories, while the structure inside loomed high into the eerie clouds. Even from there, he could see that the wall seemed to have been hewn out of a mountain. As though the entire tower was situated where a volcano had once stood, now a hollowed out crater that provided a natural border.

"Okay," he agreed. "Think there's any sentries?"

Dean's chuckle fell flat. "No one outside would have a reason to want in, and no one inside would ever get close enough to need sentries."

Not exactly comforting. Sam's eyes narrowed on the tower, noting the distance they would have to cover just to reach it. They were still protected by the brambles, but there was nothing to shield them from view out there.

"Invisibility sigil? In case someone's watching?"

He shot Dean a look before his brother could answer and added, "Right shoulder."

Dean's glare made it worth it. With a testy, "Bitch!" the hunter slapped a hand against the sigil to disappear, while Sam bit back a grin.

"Jerk."

Not being able to see Dean either, Sam reached out, feeling for his brother's shoulder, before activating his own sigil to turn invisible. Cautiously, the two emerged from the brambles and thorns and closed the distance across the barren plain. Lightning flashed to light their path as they hurried to the wall. Once they'd made it, Sam flattened himself against the stone surface and took stock of their surroundings.

Nothing seemed to be watching, but Sam couldn't shake off the trepidation. From somewhere deep inside the stone fortress, he thought he could hear screaming. Sam silently pleaded for it to  _not_ be Cas.

"Yeah," his brother's voice whispered from beside him. "We can climb this. Just like the rock walls at the gym."

"We've never been to a gym  _or_ climbed rock walls," Sam hissed back. Nevertheless, he turned to the cliff face and reached up for a hand-hold. The surface was rough, which at least meant he could get a decent grip on the rocks. Keeping his body as close to the wall as possible, Sam stepped onto a small, protruding stone and started hauling himself up.

Much as both Winchesters hated flying, Sam would have given anything to have Cas there to simply carry them to the top with a flap of his wings. Of course, if Cas had been there, they wouldn't have been trying to sneak over a wall into a terrifying tower in the middle of Hell in the first place. Sam took a steadying breath and focused on climbing hand over hand, listening to the sound of his brother's heavy breaths close by to be sure that he was still there as well.

Two stories hadn't seemed like much until he was actually trying to climb it, but finally Sam grabbed the top ledge and heaved himself up and over, falling onto the walk below the roughly turreted wall with a huff.

"Dean?" he called in a stage whisper. "Dean!"

A groan and a thud told him his brother had made it, then Dean rematerialized beside him, heaving for breath. "Ugh. Yeah… I thought that'd be way easier…"

Sam deactivated his invisibility sigil as well, not seeing any demons or guards in the immediate area. "Come on. We should move." Without waiting for Dean to get up, Sam jumped to his feet and hurried forward along the rampart.

He only made it ten feet before the floor disappeared beneath him and then he was falling.

* * *

Solid stone… soft laughter…  _loud_ laughter… everything hurt… and then there were hands.

Sam snapped back to full consciousness, but not fast enough to get up and fight. Though his head spun, the hunter tried to leap back to his feet as he saw the crowd of demons converging on him. Blind terror gave him a little speed, but they were already on top of him, gripping his wrists, his ankles. His leg, which he must have broken in the fall, was torqued the wrong way and Sam screamed out in pain.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, trying to fight loose to no avail. " _Dean_!"

"Sammy!" he heard from far above, but then a rumbling thud cut off the voice, as well as the faint light from high above.

In the darkness, Sam heard the demons' raucous chatter and he kicked out at the sound. The only result was a tightened grip on his feet. More hands joined, holding his limbs, as Sam felt himself hoisted up completely off the ground.

"Get off of me!" he shouted. "Let go!"

"Human," a nearby voice hissed, followed by more titters and excited murmurs. Something nearby inhaled deeply. " _Winchester_."

Sam had to fight off a choked cry as another demon started going through his pockets, finding the blade he had tucked away. No matter how much he twisted, he was no match for their strength, especially with the numbers they had, and his leg felt like it was on fire. Still chattering, they carted him off through tunnels that were cold and dark. Sam tilted his head up, seeing doors lining the sides of the halls.

Every now and then, he would hear noises coming from them: whip lashes and metallic rending of flesh and high-pitched screams… Desperately, Sam tried to reach his strength sigil, but he was too tightly held.  _Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

He couldn't even follow the twists and turns they were taking him in, not that it mattered. Sam didn't know how far that fall had been, but he doubted that would be the way back out. And he  _had_ to get out. The demon crowd finally seemed to reach their destination, as a door creaked open somewhere in front of them and the frigid air was replaced by a blast of dank heat.

"Got one for ya!" one of the demons crowed as Sam was unceremoniously dumped onto the hard floor.

The stone surface jostled his leg again, drawing tears to his eyes. Sam curled up in an attempt to protect himself, but the heavy shod feet of the demons kicked him forward until he had no choice but to roll into the center of the room. His head slowly rose, eyes catching the gaze of another demon who stood over him with imperious disdain.

"What's this?" she asked, curling her hand with a graceful gesture.

Unbidden, Sam's body was pulled upwards by her power, leaving him halfway between kneeling and standing as the hunter clutched his bruised stomach. "Let go," he seethed.

The cracking of his voice drew a smile to her thin lips, then the demon obligingly opened her hand so that Sam fell back to the ground with a pained cry.

"As I live and breathe," she murmured smoothly. "A Winchester. But not dear Dean. Don't tell me this is the infamous Sam Winchester, the boy who would be…  _king_."

The demons behind them snickered at the scornful word. Sam felt his cheeks heating but he remained silent as he forced his head back up to glare at his captor. Her eyes narrowed.

"Word on the street is that shutting Hell down sent you two straight to Heaven. Which begs the question, pet… what are you doing here? And might we expect Dean to be along as well?" she asked.

Sam's mouth drew into a tight line, refusing to reply.

"Hmm."

The demon turned her back, lifting her hand once again to beckon the others forward. Sam looked wildly around as they converged on him, but there was nothing he could do to stop them from grabbing his limbs and hauling him forward, following the woman.

"No, let go!" Sam gasped again, eyes widening as he was flung towards a tall metal frame. He hit it hard with a grunt but was just as quickly spun around so that his back was pressing into the rough bars. The demons shoved his hands up over his head and locked them down with cuffs that allowed no movement in his wrists. His feet were kicked apart and similarly chained in place. In that position, he had no choice but to bear weight on his broken leg, already an agony.

"Thank you, boys," the demon in charge cooed, sidling back around and waving the others off with an artful, careless gesture. She hummed as they hastily disappeared back out the door, leaving Sam alone with her. "Now then, pet. You never said whether big brother was here with you or not."

"Screw you," Sam whispered.

She smiled and tilted his chin up with one finger. "Don't be like that, darling. I do so hope to see him. We have some catching up to do." She hummed again, fingertips dancing down Sam's neck and drawing his shirt aside to the shoulder. The invisibility sigil stood out on his skin and she traced it lightly. "And what's this?"

"None of your business."

Undaunted, but almost hungry, she slid her hands down his chest instead, undoing buttons as she went. The demon pushed Sam's flannel apart, then urged his t-shirt up his torso to see the sigil Terry had made that connected him to Gabriel's archangel grace.

"And this one?" she purred. Her eyes flashed black. "Ohhh, this one feels…  _powerful_. I've never seen this sign. A little something from the angels, perhaps? And what might it do?"

The demon's hands prodded the sign, making Sam's muscles tense, but nothing happened. The hunter thanked the heavens that Terriel had ensured only he could activate the sigils. Sam smirked at the demon as though his heart wasn't quaking.

"Just a tattoo."

"Hmm." The demon slid his shirt back down and took a step back. Rather than looking angry at his defiance, her smile stretched wider. "That's quite alright, pet. I'm intrigued, but getting answers is… unnecessary. I don't much care what you have to say. My job isn't to get information. It's to turn you into a demon."

Sam's breath caught, tears swimming in his eyes as the woman picked up a leather strap. He bucked back, but one wave of her hand left him immobilized while she fastened the strap over his mouth.

"And I must say, I am  _very_  good at my job," she went on. "The best, in fact, now that dear Dean is gone. We had somewhat of a rivalry, he and I. How poetic, that his brother should be here with me now."

The woman breathed out a dusky laugh. "Sam Winchester… welcome to the rack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone leaving me comments :) Your engagement is what keeps me writing! ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

"Sammy!" Dean's heart froze in his chest as his brother disappeared before his eyes. He lunged forward but couldn't grab Sam. The gaping maw of the trapdoor opened into pitch blackness. Dean couldn't see his brother or the bottom, but he heard the thud when Sam finally hit.

"Sam!" he cried again, voice cracking. "Sam? Sammy!"

There was no response, but Dean thought wildly that a fall surely wouldn't be enough to end a soul, especially not here in Hell where everything was designed to prolong suffering without reprieve. Before he could even consider finding a safer way down, or just jumping in after Sam, Dean heard the demons. Ice shot through his veins as the sound of chaos erupted from far below, the laughter and chatter and then the gut-wrenching sound of his little brother's screams.

"Dean!"

"Sammy!" the hunter bellowed, clutching the rough stone edge of the floor in a white-knuckled grip. Screw this, he was going in!

But no sooner had he scrambled to his feet, the harsh rock grated back up into place with a groan.

"No!" Dean's blade flashed in his hand as he jumped on the stone block that had dropped Sam. Nothing happened. "No, no,  _no_!"

He wasn't waiting for the mechanism to reset. Dean slapped a hand to his tracking sigil and took off running along the wall. His heart thudded with dread; he didn't know who the torture master was these days, but it didn't matter. The thought of Cas in their hands had already been more than Dean could stand, but now  _both_ of them… no, no, no, he could  _not_ let his family go through what he knew would be happening.

Ahead, the wall turned into an enclosed hallway, seemingly unguarded. An alarm blared, probably as the demons finally registered that Sam had been calling out to a second intruder. Dean cursed and activated his invisibility sigil without breaking stride or slowing down. Let them come. He would slaughter every demon in the place before he'd let them touch his brother.

A set of stairs took Dean down into one of the cell block levels. Now he could feel the chill in the air, accompanied by the stench of blood and guts. The sound of sharpened metal sliding through skin and muscle, the cracking of whips designed to remove strips of flesh. Screaming, sobbing, shouting, the sizzle of bodies being burned and the laughter of those doing the burning…

Dean couldn't breathe. All the air in his lungs had left him, and the hunter stumbled into a corner. He clutched his chest, wheezing, praying his heart didn't explode as his vision tinged with red. He could almost feel the heat of blood dripping down his hands, elbow deep in some lost soul's chest… He was drowning in blood, suffocating in the evil he had performed in these very cells.

Something tugged deep within his heart, a pull to move farther. Something that felt like sparklers on the Fourth of July and a tiny heart he'd carried out of a fire. Something that felt like Sam. Dean took a bracing breath and crushed his fist into his closed eyes until lights burst behind his lids.

Right. Sam. He had to pull himself together and get Sam back, not lose himself. The tug was insistent, telling him that Sam was close. The other pull, Dean realized—the one that felt like fierce will and blue-white loyalty—was still distant.

Cas wasn't here.

Dean straightened. Shoving the terror down, the hunter dissociated himself from all emotion. As he always had, here. Now left with nothing but single-minded focus, he homed in on the pull leading him to Sam and took off through the stone hallway once more. This couldn't be far down enough; he needed to find some stairs. Racing along with clenched jaw, Dean managed to keep the memories at bay though the sounds continued to flood the hall, so familiar even after so long.

Finally, the hunter found himself at the top of a stone spiral staircase, leading up to the towers or down to the bowels of the fortress. Dean took the stairs down two at a time, descending into darkness. There was a landing halfway down, a torch on the wall the sole source of light, but Dean bypassed this and kept charging downward.

When he hit the bottom at last, the hunter paused to tighten his grip on his blade and let his eyes adjust until the darkness became a more penetrable gray from a faint glow farther ahead. Dean felt for the pull leading him towards Sam, then pressed a hand to his arm to turn off the tracker. He knew where he was going; deep down, he'd known from the moment Sammy had fallen where this would lead. Dean's jaw tightened even more, eyes thunderous, as he stormed forward towards the source of the glow. Along a blank stretch of wall, a torch flickered in an iron sconce.

Nothing else moved as Dean glowered at the familiar blank wall and yanked on the torch. A panel of the wall disguised in stone swung open with a low rumble that rattled his teeth. The hunter hurried through, ignoring the passageways that lined the new tunnel and barreling straight back. Then, finally, the hallway ended at a closed door.

"Sam, Sam…" he heard from the other side of the door. "So many possibilities. Where shall we begin? Maybe I'll peel your skin off, just one little strip at a time. Or maybe I'll burn my name into your flesh."

Dean knew that voice. Turning his invisibility off while simultaneously activating his strength, the hunter burst into the chamber.

Sammy was on the rack, chained in place with his hands over his head. A leather gag muffled his frantic utterances, but damp eyes clearly communicated his abject terror. It almost shut Dean down to see his recurring nightmare come to life, though the dark image of himself looming over his baby brother was replaced by a female demon he was all too familiar with. She spun around as Dean stormed through.

"Get away from him!" he seethed, raising his blade. " _Now_!"

"I was so hoping you would come to see me, Dean," the demon purred as she stepped back in line next to Sam. The white hot end of a firebrand rose to hover next to the captive hunter's face. Dean could see beads of sweat running down Sam's temples as he squeezed his eyes shut against the heat.

"I said," Dean growled, dark and dangerous, "Get. Away."

The demon chuckled softly and shook her head. "Tell me you don't miss this. The power you held over another soul. The feel of their life in your hands."

"No, I don't!" he shouted back, heart clenching as he deliberately avoided Sammy's eyes. "Now back off, Iris. I won't tell you again!"

"I bet it's all coming back to you, isn't it? The old days. All the souls you tortured here. You know, you were the best, Dean, always my rival," she suddenly snapped with a glower. "If not for you,  _I_ might have been Alastair's star. Do you remember how you gloated when he chose you instead of me?"

Dean advanced, blade pointed straight at Iris, but she didn't twitch. The predatory smile on her face stretched and widened as she hissed,

"Yet here we are… me the master of the eastern tower, and you nothing but a lost soul trapped in Hell, with your beloved brother on the rack, and no way of stopping me from introducing him to everything I learned from watching  _you_."

The hunter lunged and thrust the archangel blade towards Iris. She dodged aside, letting the firebrand dip down as she did so. Sam screamed into the gag, eyes clenched shut as his skin sizzled from the white-hot heat.

Dean released a wordless roar of rage, lunging again to drive Iris away from his brother. She danced backwards, though not quickly enough to fully avoid the point of Dean's blade. Iris shrieked in pain and held a hand to her arm; when she pulled it away, her fingers dripped with ichor.

"Cozied up to an archangel, did you?" she seethed. "But that won't be enough to save you  _or_ your brother. I've already summoned the entire demon brigade in the tower. Soon it'll be  _your_ turn for the rack."

Snorting at the weak attempt at a bluff, Dean raced forward again, but only made it two steps before the door crashed open. The hunter stumbled to a halt, momentarily distracted as he saw first one and then a horde of demons crowding inside.

Shit… not bluffing.

Dean's eyes widened, but Iris was already on the move, taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention. She leaped on him, grabbing hold of the hunter's sword arm so that he wouldn't be able to slice her again, while the demons in the doorway swarmed towards him. Despite his previous mental bravado, there was no way Dean stood a chance against the entire demon army of the tower, not even with the strength sigil.

Behind him, Sam was trying to yell his name through the leather, his voice pitched high and tight with fear. If Dean didn't get him out now, Iris would break Sammy, but not before years—maybe even decades—of torture. And then there was Cas; still trapped somewhere, alone, maybe in pain, needing their help. If ever there was a desperate situation, it was now.

"Sammy!" Dean bellowed over the din of the mobbing demons. "Shut your eyes!"

He didn't know if archangel power would have the same effect on a soul as it did a live human, and he wasn't going to take the chance. Praying that Sam had done as he'd said, Dean wrenched his arm free from Iris, using all his strength. With one hand, he pulled up his shirt. With the other, he pressed Gabriel's sigil.

There was a sound like thunder and trumpets, and then everything went white.

* * *

 

Castiel woke up with a jolt, not having intended to fall asleep in the first place. As injured as he'd been, and as much as he'd refused to let himself heal, his body must have finally rebelled and rendered him unconscious so he could start to mend. The angel cursed, realizing that the metal collar tight around his neck was warm with collected grace, and the conductive chain that fed from it to the glass vat was aglow with stolen power.

With a hitch in his breath, Castiel fought to suppress the flow of grace before Laz could return and realize what had happened. As he lifted his eyes, though, Castiel jerked with unpleasant surprise. Laz stood by the shelf with crossed arms and a triumphant smirk.

"So," the demon said. "Apparently the trick is to keep your consciousness suppressed."

"Where's the fun in that?" Vince muttered from somewhere behind Castiel, eliciting another jolt from the chained angel.

He thrashed slightly in the metal web that held him upright off the floor, but came no closer to breaking free than he had previously. Castiel glowered at Laz, but the demon only smiled wider.

"Vince," he remarked with a cruel glint in his eye. "This might be a breakthrough. Go fetch me one of the reapers."

Castiel shifted, the clinking chains echoing in the cavern as Vince hurried out the side passage. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Leave the reapers alone. Laz, just stop this!"

Laz didn't respond beyond another sneer in Castiel's direction. His face lit up as Vince shortly reappeared, a length of chain in one hand.

Castiel craned his head to see, pulling at his collar as he heard soft moans. Soon, the reaper came into view, and the angel was left with the urge to vomit. Bile rose in his throat as his mouth fell open in frank horror and disbelief at the sight.

The other end of the chain was hooked to a collar like the one Castiel wore. The reaper was forced into the chamber, shuffling behind Vince with weak attempts to pull away, hands bound behind her. She'd been blinded; blood stains dripped down from empty eye sockets. Her lips were a mangled mass of seared flesh, probably from something heated in Hellfire, to leave her silenced.

The angel had known they'd been tortured, but this was unspeakable. The reaper continued to wail, muffled and clearly full of agony, but Castiel could barely find breath to speak in her defense.

"What…" he whispered, watching Vince drag the reaper to the collecting vat. "What have you done?"

"They haven't been cooperative," Laz returned evenly. "Consider it a warning. Or a preview. I haven't decided yet what to do with you when I'm finished."

"You…" Castiel's heart quelled with rage, listening to the reaper squeal in terror as she was forced to her knees. "I… will  _rip_ your heart out. How  _dare_ you-"

Laz's fist shot out, driving into Castiel's stomach and forcing the breath from his lungs. The angel gasped for air, unable to come to the reaper's aid as Vince connected the other end of her chain to the vat. The collar around her neck flared, drawing a muffled whimper from behind her ruined lips. Deep violet power swirled down the chain to join Castiel's white-blue; the two powers met like ink in water.

"The thing about reapers," Laz said as he crossed his arms and watched with an air of nonchalance, "is that it's all but impossible to kill them, no matter what I do. Which makes them perfect for this, really." He turned to Vince and gestured towards the reaper. "I need you to let her absorb your soul, then try to get back out of her."

Vince and Castiel both stared at Laz, the demon not seeming to comprehend any better than the captive angel did.

"What? What if I can't get back out?"

Laz gestured again impatiently. "Then I'll  _make_  her release you. This is a vital piece of my experiments. Need I remind you that your reward is freedom on Earth,  _if_ we can escape Hell?"

"So she's just your pack mule?" Castiel spat out with fury at the ignominy on the reaper's behalf. "It won't work."

"Leave that to me. Vince, now. You, reaper! Take him in."

Vince's mouth twisted down as his eyes narrowed, but he nevertheless moved back to the reaper's side and extended his hand. In a swirl of black smoke, the demon disappeared.

Silence descended on the cavern as Castiel studied the reaper. Was there any way to save her at this point?  _Even_  if they could all escape,  _even_  if he got her and the other reapers to Gabriel, would the archangel have the power to heal this sort of evil? His gut twisted at the thought of her suffering like this forever. How could this have happened?

"Vince?" Laz called after a moment of stillness. "Vince, are you able to get back out?"

Still, nothing happened. The demon rubbed his chin but seemed unperturbed. "So it seems once absorbed into a reaper, emerging again is impossible. Hardly surprising, since they carry all kinds of troublesome souls. They're built like a fortress inside. Alright then, release him, reaper."

…Still, nothing happened. Castiel saw the reaper's jaw clenching as she shook her head.

Castiel held his breath as he stole a look at Laz, but the demon only chuckled.

"You celestial beings are all the same, Castiel," he shot at the angel with a nasty smile. "Impossible to work with when feeling stubborn. But just as your basic function is to heal, a reaper's basic function is to absorb and release energy. It's why they make such admirable storehouses. Yet, you are able to override that basic function by will."

Turning his back, Laz rummaged around on the rock shelf. Castiel couldn't see what he was doing, but the demon was too calm about all of this. The hair on Castiel's neck rose with dread for what he might have in store. Sure enough, when Laz turned back around the angel let out an audible gasp.

"No!"

"So it seems like I'll have to take her will power away."

The thin metal spike wasn't the same as Naomi's drill, but it looked identical to the ones that she had used in her helmet; the ones that could bore all the way to an angel's core, digging into their brain to alter their programming.

Though the reaper couldn't see what Laz was doing, blinded as she was, she could clearly hear Castiel's own dismay. The reaper shook her head repeatedly, metal rattling on the floor as she tried to bring her hands forward to fend the demon off.

"No!" Castiel shouted again, bucking and writhing in his chains in desperation to get free and protect the reaper as the demon advanced. "Laz!"

"Relax. In a moment, she won't feel a thing."

Castiel gritted his teeth against tears of helpless fury as Laz grabbed the reaper by the back of her neck to hold her still, then stabbed the spike straight through her skull. The reaper never made a sound. Instead, she collapsed to the floor, lying still with the metal sticking grotesquely out of her forehead. A light trickle of blood dripped down like a rust-red tear.

"You…" Castiel seethed, staring at the reaper. No sight, no voice, now no mind. As truly helpless as helpless could be. He'd thought he had already seen the basest cruelties in his long existence, but this… this went beyond anything. " _Why_?"

Laz ignored him, straightening and taking a step back. "Rise."

Slowly, like a marionette being pulled up by its strings, the reaper climbed to her feet.

"Release the demon."

A short pause. Then a cloud of smoke, revealing Vince's displeased countenance.

A broad smile plastered itself across Laz's face as he clapped his hands in unrestrained glee. "Excellent!" he crowed. "Oh, well done! We still need to figure out how to cross the borders of Hell, of course, but this is a tremendous step. Now, Vince-"

He was cut off by the sound of a klaxon, the screaming alarm that had alerted them to an angel's presence in Hell. The cavern's occupants all froze, listening as the wailing alarm increased to a deafening squall, far louder than the first time Castiel had heard it.

"No…" Laz whispered, but his expression was ecstasy rather than dismay. "Surely not…"

"Laz?" Vince demanded as the alarm blared.

With a feral smile, Laz grabbed an angel blade and the chains he'd taken before. "Archangel," he hissed. "Vince, with me! We're going hunting!"

The demons raced from the cavern, leaving the brain-dead reaper and the horror-stricken angel. Gabriel… No,  _no_! Why would he have left Heaven, Castiel thought in desperation. How could he have abandoned Heaven's borders? If Laz's chains and spells were strong enough to bind an archangel, if he could actually  _kill_ Gabriel… Heaven would fall.

"Gabriel,  _no_ ," Castiel whispered into the barren cavern, nothing but soft echoes of his own voice in reply. He looked to the reaper, but she stood silent and vacant, no help to anyone now. Castiel closed his eyes.

For all his defiance and determination, he was finally starting to lose hope.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's heart thudded, starbursts exploding in his vision even behind closed lids. He peeled his eyes open a little at a time as the painfully intense light dissipated. Breathing heavily, the hunter gazed around the chamber in shock. There wasn't a demon in sight, though piles of ash littered the stone floor, evidence of where each one had been standing only seconds before. The only ones left alive were him and Dean, but Dean was slumped over, hands on his knees and head bowed.

Even from his position, Sam could see his brother start to tilt as though to topple over. Dean staggered.

"Mmmn!" Sam tried to shout around the harsh leather strap keeping him silenced. The near miss, in addition to fear for his brother, drew tears to his eyes. "MMN!"

What had it cost him, to use all that power? Gabriel had warned that it should be a weapon of last resort, and now Sam could see why. Dean's eyes were unfocused as he raised his head. He seemed barely able to keep his feet as he stumbled drunkenly forward.

It took a few tries for Dean's shaky hand to find the buckle for the gag and pull it clumsily away. Sam gasped and gulped in a deep breath of air, before whispering, "Dean…?"

"Mmm," his brother groaned back as his eyelids fluttered. "S'mmy… I- I gotcha… We…" Dean couldn't even finish his sentence, clearly worn out as he reached next for one of Sam's wrists. After a second of fruitless tugging, he seemed to realize that the manacles were still latched. Dean lifted the blade and stared at it for a second, before squinting at the chains.

Sam couldn't help but close his eyes, hoping against hope his brother was steady enough to break the metal without taking Sam's hand with it. He jumped as celestial alloy struck Hadean steel, echoing with a clang throughout the chamber _._ One manacle fell away. A second later, his other hand was likewise freed.

Sam lowered his arms with relief, rubbing his shoulders with a wince at the ache before carefully urging the angel blade out of Dean's grip to free his own feet from the fetters. Dean didn't protest or try to move, staring dully forward as his head drooped. By the time Sam was loose, his brother could barely stand. Dean's eyes rolled back and his legs buckled.

"Whoa!" Sam gasped, managing to catch him just in time. "Dean? Hey! Dean!" He stowed the extra blade and lowered his brother to sit on the ground, just long enough for him to quickly heal his broken leg with the healing sigil. He'd deal with the burn on his arm later; right now, he just needed to be mobile so they could get out of there as fast as possible.

As soon as he felt his femur knit itself back together, Sam deactivated the sigil and heaved Dean up, wrapping his brother's arm over his shoulders to take as much of his weight as he could. Sam looked frantically around the chamber until he spotted his own blade that Iris had taken on her tray of torture devices.

The hunter swallowed hard, trying to forget the mindless terror of her threats and dark promises and everything it had brought back to his memory (" _We're gonna have so much fun, Sammy," Lucifer whispered)_ , as he grabbed the archangel-forged blade and held it aloft. "Okay," he murmured. "Come on, we gotta get out of here."

"Cas… he's…" Dean slurred. "He's not here…"

 _Good_ , Sam couldn't help but think with a shudder. Everything Iris had taunted him with, he couldn't imagine being done to Cas without his breath hitching in horror. Pausing to activate his tracking sigil, Sam closed his eyes.

The tug was leading him out the door, so he followed dutifully along, half-carrying Dean. Again, Sam wondered just how much power that sigil had held. Iris had said she'd summoned the entire tower; meanwhile, the stone hallway outside the chamber was carpeted in a thick layer of ash that hadn't been there before. Had  _all_ the demons gotten caught in the blast? Gabriel was certainly powerful enough to have managed that, had he been there.

Regardless, Sam kept his blade at the ready as he lugged his brother through the halls as quickly as they could manage without toppling over. Dean's weight made Sam's burned arm scream in pain ( _Tongues of Lucifer's fire slithered under his skin, burning him from the inside out)_ , but he kept moving.

As an enormous spiral staircase loomed in front of them, Sam wondered frantically how he was going to get Dean up multiple flights of stairs, but the unseen thread connecting him to Cas urged him to continue on further along the pitch-black tunnel. Soon, even the faint light from the torches faded away.

If only Terriel had provided a sigil to see in the dark, Sam thought as he squinted against the blackness. All he had to guide him was the tracking sigil, and he prayed desperately that it would lead him around any obstacles… like a bottomless chasm or an underground lake.

"Sam?" Dean asked, a disembodied voice in the dark. "Sam!"

"Yeah. You with me again?"

"What… what happened? Where…?"

Sam kept forcing them both forward, not releasing Dean's arm. Though his brother sounded more with it, he was still barely supporting his own weight. "The sigil worked, but it took a lot out of you. How do you feel?"

Dean groaned. "Like… like I got punched by an archangel. Sammy, are you- did she…?"

Tightening his grip, Sam clenched his jaw. "I'm fine."  _("Keep screaming, Sammy, I love that sound," the devil purred)._

Silence fell, Dean seeming unwilling to contest the obvious lie, but that was just the Winchester way. Neither of them spoke again as the flat stone corridor gradually began to slant upwards. The darkness surrounding them faded to grey, and then to a hazy green as the pair could barely make out a square of light far ahead.

"Wait," Dean said, limping so heavily it was throwing off their gait. "I- I can stand."

"Yeah, bullshit. Come on, just a little further and we can rest."

Dean didn't argue, a sure sign that he really was on the brink of collapse. Sam gamely wrestled them both up the ever-steepening incline. Soon, the smooth walls became less structured and more natural. The tunnel floor shifted from flattened stone to uneven rock and the hunters emerged at last into a wide cavern.

Shafts of light filtered in from the green glow of Hell's atmosphere outside, illuminating the chamber. Sam could see that the tunnels and caves carried on much further, but something deep inside him thrummed with increased intensity. Sam's eyes widened. Cas was close.

In his grip, Dean sagged and failed to bite back a groan. Right; they'd be no help to Cas whatsoever if they tried to rescue him like this, one of them barely on his feet and the other a breath away from falling into a flashback of Lucifer's Cage. Though Sam hated to do it, he cast around quickly for a sheltered nook where they could rest out of sight.

"Okay, here we go," he murmured to Dean, guiding his worn out brother down to the ground behind a looming boulder. "Let me heal you up a bit."

"You first," Dean grumbled, eyes fluttering again as he unwound himself from Sam and laid his head heavily back against the rock. He pointed to Sam's arm. "That, then me."

"Bossy."

"Shut up, bitch. Get healing."

Sam's mouth twitched, though he was still fighting too hard to hold back the memories of his time with Lucifer to return the banter. He turned off the tracking sigil for the time being, not wanting to drain more of his own strength than necessary. Then Sam pressed the rune over his heart to once again activate the healing glow of energy. Carefully, he held a hand over his burned arm, closing his eyes as the skin smoothed and the pain faded. Lucifer's face swam into his mind, but the hunter pushed the image away.

_Not now, Lucifer._

First, he had to heal his brother, get both of them rested and recovered for whatever might come next.

And then they were going to retrieve their angel and take him home.

* * *

 

Terriel paced back and forth over the silent borderlands of Hell, each footfall conjuring a puff of dust and a memory of bygone war. How long had the Winchesters been in there? At what point should he start to get concerned? Terriel glowered at the barrier to Hell. He should have just gone in with the two human souls, should have been there if his brother needed help.

Not only could the angels not afford to lose any more of their limited number, it was  _Castiel_ : one of Terriel's heroes since his fledgling years. Sitting here waiting was torturous.

_"Yo, Terriel, you read me?"_

The angel paused, touching his temple.  _"Gabriel. There's still no word. Maybe I should go in after them."_

_"No, not yet. But stand by. One of the chuckleheads used the emergency sigil."_

Hmm. Terriel hadn't realized Gabriel would be able to feel it happen, but he also wasn't surprised. It was a direct channel to the archangel's power, after all, so it would stand to reason that he would notice his own grace being used.

 _"That's one down,"_ Gabriel went on through Angel Radio.  _"If I feel the second one go, it means the boys are out of shots and I'm mustering whoever's left up here for war. But if anything goes south, you might be the first line of defense."_

 _"Understood,"_ Terriel replied immediately. He straightened his shoulders and drew his blade. Squaring off to the border of Hell, the angel narrowed his eyes.  _"I'll be ready."_

* * *

 

Castiel couldn't help staring at the reaper. He tried to tear his eyes away; not because she would mind, at this point, but because his fellow celestial being deserved at least that much dignity. Though the wordless moans and terrified sounds had been gut-wrenching, the absolute silence now brought its own horror that left Castiel cold even in the heat of Hell. The reaper stood as though petrified. Sightless, bloody eye sockets pointed straight ahead, her bound hands not straining at the manacles. Worst was the wretched spicule driven into her forehead. As long as it was in place, the reaper might as well have been a lifeless puppet.

Castiel ripped his gaze away, turning his attention now to the rest of the chamber. It was vaguely lit by the glow of his grace swirling through the collecting vat, in addition to the ambient green glow from Hell's atmosphere, enough that his heightened vision could see the stone table close by where Laz and Vince kept their various instruments for torture and experimentation. His heart leaped when he realized his blade was sitting on the ledge. If only he could get his hands on it, the angel was certain it would be strong enough to break through the chains.

Swallowing hard, Castiel's eyes trailed reluctantly back to the reaper.

The very idea of telling her to do something— _anything—_ was abhorrent to him. In her condition, the reaper would have no choice but to obey any request he made. Even though what he needed was simple and reasonable, something he would have asked of her regardless of the state of her will, Castiel was loathe to wield such power over another.

But that reluctance paled in comparison to the harsh reality that it was the only chance they had at escaping, and trying to shelter her now would only guarantee further abuse from Laz later. Castiel took a breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice falling flat even in the empty cavern. "I don't know your name. But I need you to help me." Castiel sighed. If only the reaper's hands had been restrained in front of her instead of behind, he would have simply told her to pull out the metal pin. "There's a shelf forward and to your right. My angel blade is there... see if you can reach it."

The chains connecting her collar to the vat clinked as the reaper instantly shifted to the right, shuffling in the general direction of the shelf. When she was still several feet away, the slack ran out and she jerked back with a choked grunt. The reaper immediately tried again with the same result.

"Stop!" Castiel gasped as his forehead furrowed in distress at how carefully he would have to take care of her. "Alright, it's alright."

What else?  _Think_ … Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The chains were too strong to break on his own. He couldn't reach his sword. What other resources did he- oh.

Castiel inhaled with a hiss as a thought struck him. He opened his eyes again, glancing sorrowfully at the reaper. "I'm sorry," he said again, as though that really mattered to her now. "I would never ask this normally, but it may be our only chance. Reapers can't use the souls they carry for power, but angels can. I need you to give me some power from one of the souls you're ferrying. It should make me strong enough to break free."

And Father, how he hated the blankness in her face as she immediately turned and shuffled back towards the sound of his voice without a second of hesitation. It left a cramp in Castiel's gut to know that he was doing exactly what Laz would do—using the reaper as a repository of power that he could draw from himself—but this wasn't the first time he'd had to do something unsavory in order to save them all.

When the reaper had closed the distance, she twisted her back towards Castiel so she could reach with her chained hands. The slim fingers groped around until she found his ankle, wrapping around him above the fetters.

Castiel gasped at the surge of power that flooded into his being, the reaper's hands glowing at the transfer of a human soul. Within an angel, it translated to raw energy, separate from his grace. Castiel kicked and squirmed, feeling the chains start to give at last.

Finally, the angel felt the web give way and he slid to the solid rock floor, shrugging off the metal links. Even with the extra strength, the cuffs stubbornly clung to his wrists, designed to resist. Castiel dug his fingers under the manacle and pulled with all his might. He exhaled with relief as one was finally ripped away.

The other followed soon after, and then the fetters also landed with a discordant clang on the ground. Castiel rubbed at his wrists while taking stock. He'd have to free the reaper of her own chains, then find the others, and somehow get them all out of Hell before Laz and Vince returned… but he couldn't fly them all, and most of them were blind… This was going to be difficult.

But first he would need to get this wretched collar off.

Yet even as the thought crossed Castiel's mind, even as he started towards the shelf for his angel blade, the sudden clinking of the chain links went off like an alarm in his mind—a fraction of a second before he was yanked backwards by the throat.

"And just where do you think  _you're_ going?" Vince snarled, holding the other end of the chain leash as Castiel tripped to the floor. "Laz! Get in here!"

Castiel cursed and scrambled to find his feet, but the demon was already charging towards him. They both hit the ground again, punches flying in all directions, Vince's eyes feral and enraged in the dim light. If only he could just smite the damn demon… but as long as the collar was on, Castiel's grace would only be channeled away if he tried to use it. The angel glared up at the demon who had enjoyed torturing him so much.

Abandoning the wrestling match, Castiel let Vince gain the upper hand just long enough for the angel to grab the chain and lash out. The metal links were wrapped around Vince's throat before the demon knew what was happening, then Castiel pulled.

Vince gagged, eyes bugging as he released the angel and tried to yank free, but Castiel had a firm grip on the end of the chain. He watched with a glower as the demon choked and spluttered and then even those sounds died away as all air was completely cut off. Vince swiped out at the angel with no success.

Dancing backwards with Vince in tow, Castiel stretched out towards the shelf of torture instruments. His fingertips brushed the hilt of his blade and he strained desperately for just a half inch more. The demon was yanking back as hard as he could, but finally Castiel snagged the blade in his hand and flew forward.

The blade plunged into Vince's chest, illuminating the cavern with spurting white-orange, and Castiel's tormenter died without even being able to scream.

Castiel exhaled slowly. With baleful eyes, he watched as the thin shell that gave the demon his form disappeared into ash under the unprotected heat of Hell. The chains fell slack as the tension from Vince's body disappeared. One down.

Before he could even wonder where Laz had gotten to, though, the metal links rattled across the floor once again. This time, Castiel found himself hoisted into the air by the collar. The harsh metal edge dug into his throat, cutting off any shout of surprise. His legs kicked helplessly and Castiel dropped the blade by instinct as he reached up to grab the chain instead, trying to provide enough slack to breathe.

"That was a stupid move, Castiel."

Laz sounded furious and his eyes were pure black when the dangling angel twisted in the air back to face the vat. The demon held the chain tightly to keep Castiel suspended two inches off the ground, struggling for air. Beside him, the reaper stood motionless.

Castiel wanted to yell at her to run, but he couldn't get any words out from the collar that had become his noose. He wheezed in desperation.

Laz tsk-ed, then with one hand, unlocked one of the manacles that bound the reaper. "You. Hold this here, keep him hanging like that."

"N-" Castiel tried to croak out, but it did no good. He watched as Laz handed the chain leash off to the reaper, who obediently held it taut. All the extra strength he'd had was already waning, leaving him unprotected as Laz stormed towards him and scooped up the fallen angel blade.

For a second, Laz just regarded the angel with coal-black eyes. Then he curled his hand around the weapon's hilt and slammed the pommel into Castiel's unprotected side.

A strangled shout ripped up from the angel's throat, fire erupting in his chest as Laz attacked his exposed ribcage. Castiel couldn't let go of the chain or he would strangle, leaving him unable to even attempt blocking the strikes. After a third hit to his gut, Castiel finally let go with one hand, trying weakly to bat Laz away.

The demon merely grabbed his arm and held it aside, landing one more punch before snapping, "Alright, drop him."

Castiel gasped as the pressure on his throat released, but the attack had left him unprepared as he fell now to the ground. Laz was on him before he could think of struggling upright. Then everything disappeared in a haze of white agony as the tip of the angel blade plunged into Castiel's side; he screamed at the unexpected pain.

"Come here," he heard Laz order harshly, as hands closed around his wrists and yanked them over his head, pinning him to the rocky floor. "Towards my voice."

Castiel fought weakly, glaring at the demon straddling his abused torso. When he heard the shuffling movements, he tipped his head back to see the reaper approaching. Castiel opened his mouth but nothing came out when Laz dug a knee into the wound in his side. Stars burst in his vision as Castiel gasped in wordless pain.

"Good. Get down here. Hold him down, tight."

The weight shifted as the reaper's hands replaced Laz's, then the demon was half off of Castiel as he reached out of sight. Castiel's eyes widened as Laz moved back on top of him with a long, thin metal spike in hand.

"No!" he choked out. "Don't let him-"

Laz's hand covered his mouth to muffle the order, and the reaper didn't move. Her grip was unbreakable, pinning Castiel's wrists over his head to the floor, while the demon's body weight left Castiel trapped.

For several heartbeats, Laz just waited, smirking down at the pinioned angel. Castiel knew it was so that he would feel the agony of the helplessness, the frank horror of being unable to stop what was about to happen. Not again… how many times in his life could his free will be ripped away from him? And here in the bowels of Hell, held in a demon's clutches to whom he would unwittingly provide the power to destroy everything he loved…

Castiel tried one last time to rip himself free, but could do nothing as the spike flew down towards his head.

He knew nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH again, everyone responding to this story. You have no idea how much I value and cherish the feedback :)


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Dean felt like he wasn't going to fall over if he stood up, it must have been over an hour. Actually, he didn't have the first friggin' clue how long it had been, because this was Hell and he was dead and it wasn't like he kept a phone on him anymore to check the time. What he  _did_ know was that every second that ticked away was a second that Cas might not be able to afford.

"Okay," he said out loud, noting how the sudden sound of his voice made Sam jolt, but electing to ignore it for the time being. He'd have to have a chat with his brother later and find out how much damage being back in Hell had actually done to him. "We should go."

Sam cleared his throat. "Ye- uh, yeah. Good idea. So you're good?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Clambering to his feet, Dean held out a hand to pull his brother up as well. Sam offered him his blade back, then the two turned to the back of the cavern, which disappeared around a corner and some more massive rock walls. Sam activated his tracking sigil while Dean tried not to look as impatient as he felt.

After a moment, Sam nodded. "Farther back," he murmured. "I think we're almost there."

"Good. That means we gotta be ready for anything."

Sam held his own blade out, though his eyes wavered with worry. "Think it's just a demon? I mean, Lu-Lucifer's gone."

With a grim scowl, Dean retorted, "I think whoever it is, they're gonna be dead soon. Come on."

Together, with Sam leading the way as he followed Cas's signal, the two crept further into the rock caves. The scene was still lit by green shafts of light trickling in from the atmosphere outside between cracks in the stone, helping them avoid smaller rocks that would have tripped them up. For a moment, the tunnel closed in to the point that they could just barely fit walking side by side.

They rounded a corner and then froze at the sound of approaching footsteps and rattling chains.

 _Shit_. Dean grabbed Sam's arm and raced back out the way they'd come. He was already slapping a hand to the invisibility sigil as Sam simultaneously disappeared.

As soon as they reached a wider opening in the tunnels, Dean pressed himself back against the rock wall, not releasing Sam's arm until he felt his brother do the same. The pair held their breath as the footsteps approached. Dean could feel his heart thudding in his chest, wondering if those chains they heard clinking on the ground were binding their angel…

A demon emerged, evident by its hideous face and black eyes, leading someone else along on a chain. It wasn't Cas—Dean couldn't be too disappointed, though, once he got a closer look at the woman. His gut cramped to see the state she was in. And what if they found Cas in the same condition? Her eyes… And what the hell was that metal spike in her head?

Beside him, Dean felt Sam shift, so he swiftly flung an arm out to make sure his brother didn't try to attack. Silently, they watched the demon disappear with his captive shuffling blindly but obediently behind.

Once they were both out of sight, the hunters turned off the invisibility.

"Dean!" Sam hissed, sparks in his eyes as he gestured after them. "That was probably one of the reapers! We have to do something! Didn't you see what he did to her?"

"Yeah, I did," Dean shot back, mindful of the rocks carrying his voice too loudly. "But if that's the demon who took Cas, and he's going  _that_ way, then this is our chance! Cas might be unguarded!" Not that he liked leaving the reaper to whatever fate she was heading to, either.

But Dean had priorities, and that was Cas.

Jerking his head towards the tunnel, Dean led the way this time as they both half-ran back down the passage, through a long, winding hall until it spilled out into a wider cave.

Here, the light filtering in had mostly disappeared, yet they could see a glow from around the corner. And when they rounded the bend, both Dean and Sam stopped dead in their tracks.

Cas hung from a mass of chains suspending his arms, torso, and feet. Manacles kept his limbs outspread and his feet fettered. Dean's heart dropped as he saw a metal collar cinched tightly around his friend's neck, glowing with light as it fed along an equally luminous chain to a tall glass cylinder. A dozen horrific gashes decorated his body, all in early stages of healing if the blood was any indication.

But that was nothing compared to the look on Cas's face.

It was empty. His mouth was slack, eyes open and brilliantly lit with his angelic essence, but staring straight ahead at nothing at all. And there, in the center of his forehead, a spike was driven cruelly into his skull.

If Dean had anything in his stomach to vomit, he would have done so. With his throat closing in, Dean raced forward with Sam right behind.

"Cas!" he gasped, reaching his friend and stumbling to a stop. "Cas? Hold on! Hold on, buddy, we're gonna get you down."

The angel didn't blink or twitch. If not for his glowing eyes being wide open, Dean might have thought he was unconscious. His glare lingered on the spike stuck in Cas's head, then he turned his attention to the chains.

"Sam, hold him up," he snapped, waiting until his brother had a firm grip on Cas before striking the chains with his blade. All his fury at Cas's condition was released in his raging attack on the metal links, not stopping until Sam was holding all of the angel's weight, then lowering him gently to the ground.

The manacles attached to his hands and feet, not to mention that collar, were trickier. Dean didn't want to hurt Cas on accident, so he slowed down to inspect them more carefully. Meanwhile, Sam gripped the metal spike and carefully pulled.

"Oh god, it goes all the way in," he gasped, sounding as sick as Dean felt. The hunter kept pulling until the entire pin came out, stained red nearly three inches from the tip. A droplet of blood trickled from the puncture wound that was left, but Cas didn't stir.

Sam threw the pin away with a disgusted glower, and when the last tinkling echoes disappeared, silence descended. Dean waited, not even breathing, and still Cas didn't move. The hole slowly sealed itself up and the angel's eyes fell closed… but nothing more happened.

Dean's heart stopped. "Cas?" he pleaded. With trembling hands, he gave the angel a shake. "Cas…  _Cas_! No, no, don't do this, come on, buddy."

"Dean," Sam murmured. "This collar…"

"I know," Dean snapped with pure rage. Leaving Cas collared like an animal… he'd rip that demon apart!

"No, I think it's…"

Dean looked up to see Sam's eyes trail from the glass cylinder to the chain to the collar and then back again. Dean followed his gaze, now realizing that there was a small swirl of light inside the cylinder itself, and it looked an awful lot like grace. He hissed a slow exhale.

"Wait, is that-?" He looked at the collar again, tight around Cas's throat, with fresh horror. So the demon hadn't just kidnapped Cas, he'd stolen the angel's grace? What, was this thing  _draining_  him? Desperately, Dean clawed at the padlock on the metal band, smacking a hand to his strength sigil so that he could rip the lock off and yank the entire contraption away from Cas.

As soon as it was off, the glowing metal faded to normal, but Cas didn't twitch. Dean leaned in, looking for a cut on his throat that might have been an exit wound for the grace, but there was nothing.

"He won't heal if he doesn't have his grace!" Sam pointed out needlessly, brows pinching together in obvious distress.

"Get those cuffs off of him," Dean ordered as he scrambled over to the cylinder with Cas's grace trapped inside. He studied the contraption with a frown. That collar and chain must have been acting as some kind of conducting wire, siphoning the grace from Cas to this thing. If they had more time, Dean might have been able to reverse the process, but there was no knowing how long the demon would be gone—plus, Dean was  _not_ putting that thing back on Cas, not even to feed him his grace.

Maybe if he could break the glass, the grace would just… return to its angel? Not wanting to completely shatter the cylinder and rain shards down on Cas's grace (would that even matter?), Dean cast about for something he could break through more carefully with. As he stepped back, the hunter knocked something with his boot.

Dean's eyes widened as he realized what it was. "Hey, Sammy!" he hissed, kneeling down to pick it up. "What the hell is going on?"

He held the syringe up for his brother's inspection. Sam paused, two of Cas's cuffs already off, then he gasped.

"Dean, that's the Men of Letters syringe! That's used to extract grace!"

Dean looked at the device again, mind whirling. Men of Letters? What was it doing here in Hell? And if the demon could have just sucked all of Cas's grace out with it, why this other elaborate contraption?

"This is weird," Sam murmured from behind Dean, another clang telling him his brother had gotten another cuff off. "These cuts, I mean, he  _is_ healing. Really slow, but it's happening. I think that thing was just, I don't know, draining him slowly? That must only be part of his grace in there."

"Yeah, well, we're not leaving it here in Hell," Dean snapped. He circled the cylinder until he found a small spigot in the metal base. Unscrewing the needle from the syringe, he attached the vial to the spigot and pressed the lever. The grace flowed into the vial, swirling around like liquid light.

Racing back over to Cas, Dean knelt down by the unconscious angel and held the vial out. "Come on, buddy," he pleaded. "Come on…"

They both watched silently as the blue-white light twirled with a gentle ring, floating up out of the glass and hovering for a second in front of Cas's face so his haggard features were illuminated. Then, it slipped past his slack lips and disappeared.

And still he didn't wake.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly, like he'd have any friggin' idea.

Dean rubbed a hand down his jaw, taking stock. The slashes up and down Cas's torso and limbs did look a little better, but weren't healing quickly enough for his taste. Though, the sight of the bloodied angel blade nearby explained the delay. But he knew Sam was thinking the same thing that he was: they couldn't stay there, and Cas couldn't fly them out.

Which only left one option.

"Okay. I'm gonna take him. Give me a hand."

Together, the brothers got Cas upright. Checking that his strength sigil was still activated, Dean pulled the angel up over his shoulders, then climbed to his feet.

"It's a long way, Dean…"

Dean didn't answer, because it didn't matter. Cas had once carried him out of Hell.

It was time to return the favor.

* * *

 

Sam's eyes roamed constantly over the stone walls in search of shadows or movement, ears tuned in to the slightest sound that wasn't their own footfalls or light breaths. Both hands clenched an angel blade—he wouldn't have left Cas's behind, knowing their warrior friend was going to want it back as soon as he woke up.

Behind him, his brother carried Cas over his shoulders with the same care he would have shown an unexploded warhead, going out of his way to avoid the slightest bump. Cas hadn't stirred.

Fear clawed its way up Sam's chest, but he pushed it aside. Whatever that demon had done to Cas, they would be able to fix it. There was  _always_ a way to fix it. Gabriel would know what to do. Or maybe Terriel, when they were close enough to contact him.

But first there was all of Hell to cross back through, and the fear rose in a swelling crescendo. The Tower… the plasma fields… How were they supposed to make it back through all of that, undetected, with a comatose angel?

The caverns of stone all looked similar to Sam, and for a moment he feared they wouldn't be able to find their way back to the tunnel leading into the tower at all. For all he knew, there were several ways out of the place that might have even allowed them to circumvent the tower entirely. The only guaranteed way back was the way they had come, though, so Sam breathed a short sigh of relief when he found the gaping chasm that led the way back down to the tower basement.

"You got him?" he asked quietly, twisting to look at his brother.

Dean shifted Cas carefully on his shoulders and nodded. "Yeah, I got 'im."

"Don't let him go."

Though it was said almost as a joke, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood, Dean gave him a surprisingly serious look and nodded again. "I won't let him go."

Sam turned forward again and gripped the dual blades a little tighter. He was making an internal list of things to ask Terriel about looking into—not only the ability to see in the dark, but maybe a sigil that would alert them somehow to the presence of a demon. He didn't like not knowing what they were walking into, whether the tower had been emptied from Gabriel's sigil, whether any more had arrived yet. Maybe with those additional sigils…

...Not that he was planning on going on any more missions, but... just in case. Although, with Heaven needing as many angels as possible to stay upstairs, Cas was left without backup, and look at what had happened. There was no way they'd be able to stop the angel from taking care of these missions for Gabriel, but maybe if Cas had his team back...

First things first, Sam reminded himself with a frown. They had to get Cas safely back to Heaven where Gabriel could help him.

They didn't come across any visitors through the silent descent back down into the fortress, but Sam sucked in a breath when they reached the flat stone-floored hall at last. The bare rock magnified sound, allowing him to hear the heavy, thudding footsteps of demons further along.

"Damn it," Sam whispered softly, glancing back at his brother to see how he was doing. Though Dean's expression was resolute, or at least as much as Sam could see of it in the dark, he was also breathing harder. The continued use of the sigils had to be wearing him down.

Stopping to nudge Dean's arm, Sam whispered, "I can take a turn."

"No," Dean muttered back stubbornly. "I'll carry him. Keep moving."

Shrugging his agreement, Sam turned—and rounded the corner just as another figure was rushing in from the opposite direction. The hunter bounced off the demon, clearly identified by her hideous face in the flickering light of the torch she carried. The demon gasped in shock, stumbling backwards. Her mouth fell open as the regarded the frozen trio.

"Down here!" she bellowed at the top of her lungs, collecting her wits before Sam could stop her. "I found them! Winchesters-"

Orange light spurted from the demon's eyes and mouth as Sam lunged forward to plunge one of the angel blades squarely through her chest, cutting off the cries. He ripped the blade back out, head whipping up with dismay as he heard the call picking up far down the passage.

"This way!"

"I heard her, it was over here!"

"Get them!"

Sam's jaw tightened as he brandished both the blades. "Dean, go!" he snapped. "Back up the tunnel! We can lose them in the caverns!"

With Dean hurrying back the way they came, and Sam moving backwards to watch the rearguard, the hunters scrambled to make it out in time. Carrying the angel and already weary, though, they weren't fast enough.

A group of five demons spilled into the tunnel behind them. Their shouts turned victorious as they spotted their quarry, sprinting towards them.

"Go!" Sam thundered over his shoulder. His silver blades flashed in the torchlight, lithe and lethal. The first demon met a swift death with the blade slicing his throat, while another stumbled with a curse as Sam slashed his shoulder.

"Sam!"

"Just get him out, Dean!"

"Winchesters. You're making messes again. Thought we'd seen the last of you," one of the demons snickered as the four remaining slowed to fan out in the tunnel, evidently hoping to trap Sam in.

He dodged sideways to keep all four in front of him, knowing if they got him surrounded, it was all over. He had to keep them away from his family. Somewhere behind him, Sam could hear Dean pleading with Cas to wake up, but he couldn't be distracted by that. The hunter sank into a ready stance with dual blades held high, and glared at the demons in challenge. They smirked back with clear disdain.

"Don't know what trick that was you pulled earlier," the one continued as he clenched his fists. "But you're gonna pay for it. You, your brother,  _and_ your angel pal over there."

"No," Sam snapped. "You're not getting them."

"Plus, you're gonna pay for closing Hell," another demon pressed on with a cold glower. "Take 'em, boys!"

All four rushed Sam in one motion. His eyes widened in horror as he lashed out with the angel blades once again, but only one found its mark. Outnumbered and without time to activate any of the sigils, Sam couldn't stop the demons as two of them grabbed his arms to prevent him from striking, while the other raced in for the attack.

Sam choked on a cry of pain as a demon's hard fist found his cheek and then his gut. The hands on his wrists tightened and twisted, forcing him to drop one of the angel blades. He clung to the other one, scrambling to hold on while simultaneously trying to kick out with the only part of him he could still move.

The demon hitting him ducked around Sam's foot, scooping up the fallen blade and pressing it to the hunter's throat.

Sam closed his eyes, waiting for the cut that would finish him for good. He wondered briefly if he was going to the Empty when his soul was destroyed, or if he would simply cease to exist in any plane at all. His gut tightened with the knowledge that they hadn't managed to save Cas, hoping against hope that Dean might yet somehow escape with the angel…

The blade never sliced and the pain never came. The sharp edge disappeared from his throat, followed by the harsh clang of metal falling onto stone and the frantic gasps of the demons. Even from behind Sam's closed lids, he could see the sudden bursting light, white hot and electric blue.

Shock made him pry his eyes open, just a little, just enough to see the contours of obsidian wings coming to surround him.

"No, Sam," Cas's gruff voice murmured in his ear as the demons screamed. "Shield your eyes. I've got you."


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel reeled slightly as the light from his smiting grace dissipated into the darkness. The corners of his vision began clouding out into gray. Not that there was much light, though fallen torches on the flagstone provided at least enough for Castiel to see that Sam was still on his feet.

Sam.

Castiel stumbled in a stationary circle, looking behind him with disbelief.

Dean.

What on earth…?

"Cas!" Dean's familiar voice barked, matching the movement of his friend's lips, though Castiel was still too dazed to fully put the two stimuli together.

He blinked owlishly at his friend, then closed his eyes and started sagging to the floor. Firm hands grabbed him, helping the angel sit back against a hard, rough surface. It all felt too solid to be dream and vapor, brought on by whatever Laz had done to him. But his friends were in Heaven, and that was certainly not where he was now.

"Cas," Dean repeated from directly in front of his face, hands now cupping his cheeks. "Cas? Stay awake. Come on, wake up."

"Are you alright?" Sam was demanding, also close by. Something squeezed Castiel's arm harder. "You've been unconscious…"

Castiel pried his eyes open to find that the two Winchesters were still there. He frowned in bemusement, trying to put all the pieces together, but nothing was connecting.

"Where are we?" he managed to ask, throat parched and sore. Castiel coughed slightly and tried again. "What happened?"

The boys traded a look before Sam asked gently, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Castiel thought about it. "Pain." He immediately regretted the response, seeing the looks it elicited from his two friends, so he shook his head. "Um… Hell. But I'm very confused." Had the Winchesters… escaped their heaven? Gabriel was going to be furious.

"We're still in Hell," Dean told him shortly, taking a quick look around. "We found you all strung up with a pin in your head."

Castiel's heart clenched in sudden fear as he jerked a hand up to try and find the metal spike. That's right… Laz had used one on the reaper, then when Castiel had nearly escaped, the demon had brought one to use on him as well. The angel gulped in a deep breath, then another, rapidly escalating towards panic as he remembered being trapped and pinned and unable to stop the demon from turning him into a puppet…

"Whoa, easy. It's okay, it's gone. We got it," Sam murmured, squeezing Castiel's arm again. "Will your grace be enough to heal you?"

Castiel took stock again, realizing that he was blocking his own healing energy; it was practically habit now. Allowing the grace to flow out towards his wounds, the angel nodded in reply to Sam as he clambered to unsteady feet. "Yes, though I'm afraid it's going to take some time. Laz wasn't interested in causing permanent damage, but he was… persistent."

"Laz, that the bastard who did this?" Dean snapped, gripping Castiel's arm to help him up. "I got a blade with his name on it." His murderous expression tightened as he added, "But first things first. Can you fly, just far enough to the border?"

Again, Castiel nodded. "It won't be easy, but my wings are not damaged."

"Good. Time to get the hell outta Dodge."

Both Winchesters took one of Castiel's shoulders each, but the angel pulled away with a frown. "Get out- no, I can't go."

Dean stared at him. "Uh… yeah, you can. Let's go."

"Dean,  _no_ ," Castiel insisted as he took a step back. "I still have a job to do. Laz is using the reapers, and I have to help them."

"We saw," Sam replied, face pleading and urgent. "He passed us on our way in, with… well, we assume she must have been a reaper. She had the same pin in her head that you did."

"She? Then he only had one of them with him."

"I- yeah, I guess," Dean said. He shifted his weight, looking down the tunnel.

Castiel followed his gaze, knowing his friend was anxious to be moving, but he sighed. "Then the rest must still be imprisoned in his lair. I can't leave without them. Stopping Laz is the only thing that matters. If I don't, he'll use the reapers to escape from Hell and  _kill_ Gabriel. If that happens…"

Sam's face turned pale in the darkness, and he swallowed hard. "…Heaven falls. But I don't understand. We  _closed_ the Hellgates. No demon should be able to get out."

"Yeah, well… Laz is close to figuring out a way." Castiel paused, regarding his two friends as bafflement washed over him anew. "We  _are_ still in Hell? I'm… I'm awake?"

The Winchesters traded a look before Dean reached out and pinched the skin of Castiel's wrist, hard. The angel jerked his hand away.

"What-"

"Yes, you're awake. Yeah, it's Hell," Dean replied. "And yeah, we're really here."

"… _How_? You're supposed to be in Heaven." Castiel blinked and shook his head. "Of course you're here, then. Why would a Winchester ever be where they were supposed to be."

"Gabriel sent us. He was getting worried about you, so he had Terriel give us a lift," Sam explained.

Dean shifted his weight again. "And he's waiting for us at the border. So we should really be going. We can regroup and figure this out  _after_ Gabriel charges you up. Look at you, Cas, you can barely stand up straight. Whatever that Laz guy did to you, it's really done a number."

Dean wasn't wrong; Castiel felt barely strong enough to lift his blade, the replenished grace not coming close to his full amount. Laz had taken so much… and yet, Castiel knew there was no choice here. The reapers didn't have time for him to get to Heaven and back. Assuming Gabriel would even let him leave again; and he had personally given his word to protect Theodore. Leaving him to his fate now was something Castiel could not do. He shook his head.

"I'll fly you both to the border. You shouldn't be here. Terriel can take you back to Heaven, but I'm staying. My mission is to help the reapers."

Again, Sam and Dean traded a look, then turned back to him.

"Then we're staying, too," Sam replied. He held out Castiel's angel blade. "Our mission is to help  _you_."

Castiel considered protesting, but then thought better of it. The truth was, they had always been strongest as a team, and he could think of no better allies to have at his back while battling a demon in Hell than the Winchesters.

"Alright." Castiel took his blade back, grateful for the familiar feel of the metal/grace alloy conforming to his hand.

The trio headed back out through the tunnel they must have entered, emerging into the labyrinth of caverns that Laz was using as his base. Seeing the uncertainty in Sam's face as he faltered at one of he turns, Castiel pushed ahead of him to take the lead, following the ring of faint celestial energy; not quite the same as a fellow angel, but divine in nature nonetheless. Uneasily aware that Laz might return at any moment, Castiel tried to hurry, but he was exhausted from the ceaseless torture he'd suffered, as well as the expenditure of the majority of his remaining grace to abolish the demons attacking Sam. He was already flagging when they finally arrived in a smaller chamber close to where he'd been held.

"Castiel?" a hushed voice demanded, followed by a gasp. "Castiel! Help me!"

"Theodore!" Castiel rushed towards a large, metalwork cage along the back wall where the reaper who'd guided him in was being held.

The angel's gaze took in the rest of the cavern as he moved, heartbeat fluttering with dread to see the remaining five reapers as well. Unlike Theodore, they were outside the cage, but it was clear they weren't going anywhere. They stood in line, vacant and still, with spikes driven through their foreheads. All five had their hands chained together over their heads, connected in one long string by another chain that was attached to the wall. Like dummies in an assembly line, waiting to be used. The metal pulsed lightly with deep purple energy; it must have been the same type of material as the collar and chain Castiel had worn.

"What the hell did he do to them?" Sam demanded.

"What does it look like?" Theodore snarled. "Blinded them, burned their mouths closed with metal forged from Hellfire. Then turned them into his own personal marionettes."

"But not you?" Castiel asked, casting a worried gaze over the remaining reaper as he ran his hands over the bars of the cage door, looking for a weakness in the metal. "Are you hurt?"

Theodore took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. "I'm in  _Hell_ , Castiel. I listened to their terrified cries as one by one, all of my brothers and sisters were mutilated. I watched him spike each one of them in turn, knowing I couldn't save them or spare them the pain. He didn't  _have_ to hurt me."

Castiel nodded solemnly, needing no further explanation. He understood that sort of agony. "Surely he had another reason for sparing you, though. If his method works, why would he not use every reaper at his disposal?"

"He will." Theodore swallowed, eyeing his fellow reapers with unmasked dread. "He's going to destroy all of it, Castiel. Heaven. Hell. He's already given them your grace… they must be in so much pain. He's using the first six against Gabriel, then- then I'll be the first of his next collection to eliminate Hell."

"Not that blowing Hell is such a bad idea," Dean grumbled from behind them. Metal rattled against rock as he tried to reach the chain connecting the five reapers.

"I'd rather not give him the chance," Castiel pointed out as he wrapped his hands around the bars and pulled with all his might. They refused to budge, and he staggered back as the attempt sapped more of his energy.

"Please," Theodore whispered, clutching the bars as well in a white-knuckled grip. "Please hurry… If we're not gone before he comes back…"

Nodding, Castiel held up his blade. Before he could strike at the padlock on the door, the whistling roar of smoke had him whirling around in dismay. His eyes widened as a thick cloud poured into the cavern, engulfing Dean in an instant.

"No!" he cried, lunging forward with blade extended, but the smoke disappeared… and Dean with it.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as he stepped in a tight circle, eyes darting across the cavern. For a long second, nothing happened. Then the cloud shot through the rocky cave and solidified into the shape of the demon, with Dean pulled in harshly against him. One of Dean's arms was twisted up behind his back so that he winced in discomfort. More urgent, though, was the jagged blade pressed under his chin.

"Laz, don't!" Castiel snapped, automatically calculating the distance between them. He gritted his teeth; Laz was out of reach, and if the angel made a move, Dean would be dead before he could stop the demon.

Laz had clearly made the same calculation, judging by the dark smirk on his face. Dean's eyes narrowed as he tried to jerk free.

"Laz, huh? So  _you're_ the one I'm gonna kill," he snapped. "Good to know."

"Big words from the one I could slice to ribbons right here and now," Laz hissed, though his eyes never left Castiel. "Move slowly, angel. You and the tall one there, lose the blades. Toss them this way."

"Cas, just gank his ass!" Dean shouted. His free hand started to shoot towards his trapped arm, but Laz shoved him down to his knees. With his demonic power holding the hunter in place and his limbs now trapped at his sides, Laz replaced the knife under Dean's chin and smiled.

"Now, Castiel."

Again, the angel calculated his odds, but each scenario he could imagine ended with Dean at the end of the blade. And this time, if he was killed, Dean was gone forever. Castiel's brow furrowed deeper in helpless rage, but he slowly lowered his weapon.

"Sam," he murmured, silently urging the hunter to follow his lead. Together, the pair dropped the swords to the stony floor with a clang. Castiel's jaw tightened as Laz's smile grew wider.

"Excellent." The demon snapped his fingers; a large metal keyring appeared in his hand, which he tossed their direction. "Open the cage. Then get in."

Castiel caught the keys and looked between them and Laz for a second, fury mounting at himself for having been so careless as to be trapped  _again_ by this demon. His hesitation seemed to anger Laz, as the demon's eyes narrowed and he jerked Dean in tighter against him, blade digging in.

" _Now_."

Moving slowly, Castiel edged backwards with Sam until he ran against the bars of Theodore's cage. He flipped through the few keys on the ring until he found one that matched the padlock, then swiftly unlocked the cage. He and Sam both stepped inside, though Castiel hesitated again once he'd crossed the threshold.

Rolling his eyes, Laz growled, "Now close the door, Castiel. Lock it up again and toss the keys this way."

"You know you're not gonna get away with this," Sam seethed, wrapping his hands around the bars while Castiel closed the padlock and threw the keys towards Laz.

"Mm-hmm." The demon didn't release Dean from his hold, keeping one hand extended towards him while he slid forward to scoop the keyring back up. He shook his head. "So predictable, Castiel. I knew you'd do anything to protect the famous Dean Winchester… again."

Castiel met his captor's gaze, a sudden sickening thought flitting through his heart that Laz was going to string him up again, and use the Winchesters to gain his cooperation. He didn't know how much the demon might have already taken from him, had no idea exactly what had transpired while his conscious will had been stolen by Laz's spicule. If he still needed grace, how would Castiel be able to refuse, now that the Winchesters could be used as leverage? He knew he had to hold out, no matter what, and that they would both understand, but the mere thought left his heart clenching with panic.

Laz watched him, then flicked his eyes over to Sam, and Castiel's stomach lurched even more. The demon only laughed, though, taking a step back and stowing his dagger. "Don't look so nervous," he suggested cheerfully. "I don't need you yet. You can sit tight right there until I'm ready to destroy Hell.  _After_ I deliver the reapers to Gabriel as a walking, living bomb."

"You think he's gonna be stupid enough to open the door for you, once he sees what you've done?" Dean pointed out with a snort. "Maybe he's not the brainiest, but he ain't  _that_ dumb."

"Oh, he'll let them in," Laz assured him, glancing over his shoulder at the trapped hunter. "Word is he's the opposite of the other archangels. When he sees the condition they're in? He'll throw the doors open wide, desperate to save the poor things. He won't know I'm there until it's too late. And with the archangel gone, Heaven will fail. How long do you suppose the angels will last without it? We used to take bets, you know. Some demons figured it'd be a matter of days."

His teeth flashed in the torchlight. "I'm betting they linger and slowly fade away in misery over  _years_ , watching the chaos their fall brings to the world. And I have to say, I can't wait."

"It's never going to work," Sam protested, shifting his weight beside Castiel. "Look, buddy, I don't know who you are, but I've seen demons way bigger and badder than you go up against Heaven. And every single one of them has failed. Gabriel survived a  _Prince of Hell._ So you?" He snorted derisively. "You don't have  _nearly_ enough juice to take out an archangel."

"Yeah, so you stole some of Cas's grace," Dean added. "You think Cas, at  _full power_ , could kill Gabriel? If you had every angel left, you couldn't get enough mojo to take him down."

Castiel bit his lip, part of him proud of the boys for their staunch defense of Gabriel—admittedly not their best friend—but he was also more intimately aware of the physics behind what Laz was doing. And he couldn't deny, no matter how much he wanted to, that Laz actually did have a chance.

A very good chance.

Laz clearly knew it, too, lips pursing into a smirk. "Oh…  _do_ forgive me, I didn't realize you  _hunters_  had become experts on the various celestial energies and how they interact at a molecular level. My years of expertise in that highly specialized area are no doubt dwarfed by your  _overwhelming_ knowledge base. Which is… what exactly?"

Castiel saw Dean's eyes shift as he tried to parse out the remark. Sam, however, bristled and shot back,

"It doesn't matter. Gabriel will stop you."

Laz shrugged. "I think not. These reapers have already been infused with grace from Castiel. Alone, that might not do it, but when combined with the souls I've collected for them to carry? An explosion strong enough to not only eliminate Gabriel, but any angels close by as a bonus. And granted," he added, looking towards the unmoving line of chained reapers, "most of the souls aren't worth much by now. Most of them are nearly demons. But they'll do the trick."

Laz chuckled softly under his breath and turned his back to the cage, looking instead at Dean as he finished, "Especially now."

Castiel's heart froze in his chest as Dean blinked and looked around as though in search of something else that might have caught Laz's attention. But there was nothing, nothing but Dean as the demon bore down on him with dark purpose.

"Uh," Dean stuttered, tilting his head back—the most movement he had. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you  _touch_ him," Sam seethed, pressing a mark on his arm and yanking at the cage bars. It was a sigil of some sort, glowing hotly beneath his shirt. Castiel had no idea what the mark was meant to do, as nothing else seemed to happen, though it did halt Laz's advance on Dean.

The demon eyed Sam for a second, gaze drifting down to the lit mark, then twisting back towards Dean again. He reached out and pulled the hunter's shirt aside, baring his upper arm as Dean's glower darkened and his mouth tightened in displeasure.

"Hmm," Laz remarked simply. "I've never seen these before." He pulled the other side down next, revealing another set of marks.

"Don't get fresh," Dean snipped.

The demon just smirked as he replaced the shirt and patted Dean's shoulder. "Winchesters. Never fail to surprise. Gabriel never left Heaven, did he? Earlier, when my sensors detected archangel grace… That wasn't him, it was you, wasn't it? Whatever these marks are, it must have had something to do with that."

Castiel frowned, not seeing how this could possibly be the case, but he noted the clenching of Dean's jaw and the renewed fervor with which Sam yanked on the cage bars. Clearly he would need to be brought up to speed on a few things, but for now he simply snapped,

"Release Dean and Sam, Laz. Everything you need, you can get from me, remember?"

Laz's grip on Dean's shoulder tightened as he hauled him up and dragged him towards the line of reapers. The demon's eyes flicked black.

"Not quite. The grace still needs human souls to interact with. All I had were half-demons, very little juice left, but now? Dean's soul is powerful, fresh from Heaven. Exactly what I needed."

"Get off of me!" Dean wriggled in Laz's grasp but the demon was too strong, and they could only watch in horror as he was shoved forward in front of the line of reapers.

"You," Laz ordered the first reaper. "Take him in."

"No!" Castiel shouted, throwing himself at the bars to no avail. He watched Dean evaporate into light, pure and blinding, and then disappear into the mindless reaper. The angel released a shuttering breath, staring at where his friend had just been. Beside him, Sam smacked the metal with a furious hand.

"You won't get away with this! You hear me?"

Laz snorted as he reached down to scoop up Castiel and Sam's angel blades from the floor. "Hunters. All bluster. Sit tight, Sam, I'm going to want a closer investigation into those sigils the angels gave you when I return to destroy Hell." He detached the chain connecting the reapers together from the wall and linked it through the collar on the one he'd had with him, forming a chain line. Gripping the lead end in his hand, Laz turned back to the cage and offered Castiel a sarcastic bow.

"Until next time, Castiel. You might as well offer a silent farewell to what remain of your brothers and sisters. You won't be seeing them again." He took one step forward, his gaze and Castiel's locked as he hissed, "I told you fate was finally on my side."

With a final sneer and a rattling of chain links, Laz turned and led the reapers from the cavern. Towards the border.

Towards the end of Heaven.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO! I guess I'll leave you there for the week. Thank you so much, truly, for all the engagement. Reviews keep me going when I feel like hanging my hat up on writing, it reminds me why I do this :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the endzone, guys! A showdown is approaching...

Sam yanked at the bars with all his strength, shouting a wordless exclamation that did nothing to relieve his terror and frustration. Cas was running his hands over the door of their cage with a tightly furrowed brow, but the reaper had retreated to a corner where he sat with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Don't you think if those bars could be moved, I would have escaped right away?" he grumbled.

Sam shot a glare over his shoulder. "That demon is on his way to Heaven right now!" he snarled. "With your friends  _and_ my brother! I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

The reaper—Theodore, Sam thought Cas had called him—scoffed and went back to staring morosely at the ground.

"We can't stop him. Gabriel's as good as dead. And then the rest of us will be right behind."

"We're not lost yet, Theodore," Cas argued as he gave the cage bars a tug of his own. "There's still a chance, if we can just find a way out of here before he reaches Heaven's gates."

Theodore snorted again. "Says the one who said if I would just show you into Hell, I would be safe. Well, I'm  _not_  safe. So forgive me if my confidence in your success is low."

Sam's jaw tightened as he saw Cas tense, knowing how seriously the angel took his duties of protection. "Look, buddy," he snapped. "You're alive, right? And in better shape than the others. So why don't you get off your ass and help us?"

The reaper just drew in on himself tighter, so Sam turned back to his own task. He glanced down to make sure the strength sigil was activated correctly; it burned with holy light, so it must have been working, and yet the bars refused to budge. Sam grunted in ire, then took a step back and ran a hand through his hair.

"What is that mark?" Cas asked him, now climbing on the stone ledge built into the cage so that he could press experimentally against the unyielding roof. "I've never seen that sigil before. You mentioned that Terriel brought you down here… I assume it must be his work."

"Yeah, it is." Quickly, Sam gave Cas the abridged explanation, detailing the sigils they'd used to track him and the one for strength that he was trying to use now. Cas listened, nodding with a raised brow.

"He always was quite the inventor. But you mentioned that using those sigils take a lot out of you. Turn it off, Sam. There's no sense in you tiring yourself when we know it won't be enough to break the bars or the lock."

Sam wanted to argue, but the logical side of his mind had to agree. He deactivated the strength sigil, raking his hand through his hair again with the uneasy thought that Laz might be halfway to Heaven with Dean by now. He watched as Cas continued to prod and tug at various parts of the cage before giving up with an irritated huff.

"Nothing?" Sam asked hoarsely.

Cas shook his head. "I'm not surprised. Laz was a Man of Letters, Sam."

That explained the syringe they'd found. How a Man of Letters had come to be a demon in Hell was beyond Sam, though it wasn't like they hadn't had their own run-ins with more corrupt members with questionable morality. In any case, the tidbit of information wasn't likely to help them find a way out, so he didn't comment.

"Clearly," Cas added, "he would know which sigils and spells to use to make this cage impenetrable to a reaper, a lower angel, and a tired soul."

Sam bit his tongue, he and Cas both holding their silence. After everything they'd survived—and even after what had killed them in the end—the idea of everything falling into ruin  _now_  was unfathomable. To be stopped by a little bit of metal…

"You said a lower angel can't break loose," Sam finally said as he glanced down at his chest. "Do you think… would Gabriel's power be enough to break the lock and get us out?"

"Undoubtedly," Cas replied, glumly wrapping his hands around the bars. "But Gabriel only sent you and Dean because he himself can't leave Heaven. He'd never be able to reach us, and if he tried then he'd only be leaving Heaven all the more vulnerable to Laz's attack."

Again, Sam fell into silence, his eyes roaming the cavern that the cage was situated in. It was sparsely occupied; little more than stone and chains, illuminated by the faint green glow of Hell. The wall where the other reapers had been bound sported another length of chain dangling from a hook. Sam regarded this, then asked,

"Hey, Cas. Can you reach that chain over there? Think your mojo can get it this way?"

The angel cast him a look, forehead wrinkling as he blinked. "I suppose, but what good is that going to do?"

"Just trust me."

Cas shrugged and extended a hand through the bars, frowning at the chain. They slithered down from the wall, prompted by his power, then slid across the floor towards them.

Sam knelt down and scooped up the metal links. One end, he wrapped several times around two of the bars, as well as the padlock they'd been unable to break. The other end, he clenched tightly in his hand.

"These chains," he said as he worked. "They're the same as the ones we found you hooked up to, to that collar. He was using them to drain your grace."

Cas growled, eyes narrowing slightly at the reminder, but he didn't interrupt. Sam went on,

"Somehow, Laz has been using the conductive properties to siphon power from you and the reapers, right? They can be used to channel raw energy."

"Yes," Cas agreed, though without much enthusiasm. "But Sam, I've already tried. The lock can withstand my grace, so whether it's channeled through a chain or not won't make a difference."

"Right. But it's not your grace we need," Sam murmured, checking his handiwork and then squaring his shoulders. "It's Gabriel's."

"What are you-"

"Both of you get as far back as you can," Sam urged as he unbuttoned his flannel shirt. "Get down, cover your heads."

"Sam, are you going to do something crazy?" Cas demanded, though he stumbled backwards into the far corner of the cage beside Theodore and knelt down.

Sam smiled grimly; why did it  _always_ seem to come to them doing something crazy? It wasn't a grenade launcher, but he was willing to bet Gabriel's sigil packed even more of a punch. He waited until Cas and a terrified looking Theodore were ducking down as much as possible, then he clenched the conductive chain now attached to the padlock. Offering a short prayer that this would work, Sam slammed a hand into the sigil carved into his torso.

The cavern flooded with holy light, and Sam heard himself scream.

* * *

 

Gabriel paced back and forth, wearing tracks in the throne room of Heaven's Great Hall. Not knowing what was happening was infuriating, but being confined to Heaven was even worse. With a scowl, the archangel spun and started treading back to his starting point by the throne, but froze after only a few steps.

His eyes widened as he grabbed his chest with a gasp. The loss of power wasn't incapacitating, but it was enough to unsettle the archangel. And worse, it could only mean one thing.

"Damn it," Gabriel whispered, shuddering and hunching over as he rode out the wave of wooziness that accompanied the sudden drain. The other sigil had been used.

The boys were out of shots.

Waiting until he felt the spell pass, Gabriel straightened and whirled. "Naomi!" he shouted. "Get in here!"

Either the Winchesters had won, he thought frantically as he waited, or else they'd used up the only 'Hail Mary' play they had left, and possibly failed. Whichever it was, things were coming to a head.

"You rang?" a voice griped, heralding Naomi's approach. She crossed her arms and glowered, but Gabriel was unmoved.

"Muster the soldiers," he snapped. "Get them ready to fight."

Her eyes widened. "If there's a battle, give me a blade. I can help-"

"Yeah, don't count on it, princess," Gabriel cut her off with a snort. "Until there's absolutely no choice left, you're never getting a blade back. After everything you pulled?"

"I'm a seraph, not an errand girl-"

"You  _were_ a seraph, but I don't appreciate how you tortured my brothers, so… be grateful I need every live angel I can get. Now come on, hop to it!"

With another dark glower, Naomi disappeared, hopefully to actually follow orders. Gabriel closed his eyes, touching his temple.

_"Terry, you with me, kiddo?"_

_"Gabriel. I'm here."_

_"Listen, they used the second sigil. Be prepared and report back at the FIRST sign that something's happening, got it?"_

_"Of course. Was it- oh…"_

Gabriel waited, but Terriel was silent. His stomach clenched.  _"Terriel? Terry! What's going on?"_

_"I'm… reporting back. Something's happening."_

* * *

 

Terriel had seen angels do terrible things to each other before, through Michael's regime and later the civil wars. But he had never seen any celestial being mutilated like this, as he stared in shattered disbelief at the row of reapers chained together. They crossed the border in a single file line, blind, silent, bound. To say they had been tortured couldn't begin to speak to the gut-wrenching agony they must have gone through to be in such condition. The mindless way they moved as one—not in an air of teamwork, but rather of outside control—told him immediately that this wasn't a mass escape. The pins jabbed into each of their skulls only confirmed that theory.

And yet, it wasn't like he could attack them and put a stop to…whatever this might be. Terriel watched, hesitant, as the line of reapers halted. He had just enough time to wonder achingly whether even Gabriel could fix this kind of atrocity, when a cloud of black smoke belched forth from the reaper on the end.

A second later, it solidified into a demon, laughing breathlessly with the clear air of victory as he clutched the end of the chain holding the reapers.

Terriel gasped, mind whirring with disbelief but not so stunned that he couldn't still wrest his angel blade from the ether. At the same time, the demon caught sight of him and pointed at the ground separating the two.

With a noise like thunder, the barren land was rent in two, a chasm opening in front of Terriel to prevent him rushing for the attack. The physical obstacle would have been one easy enough to overcome; it was the mere fact that the demon had somehow made it appear, more than anything, that halted Terriel in his tracks. That wasn't a normal demon trick.

The pause was enough for both angel and demon to gather themselves from their respective surprises, each regarding the other with a shrewd eye.

"Ah," the demon said, a smirk blossoming across his face as he gave Terriel a knowing nod. "Let me guess. The angel who tripped the border alarm not long ago. Decided Castiel wasn't worth a rescue after all?"

Terriel's grip on his blade tightened, heart jolting. Fury mounted: not only at the very idea of Castiel being unworthy of rescue, but also the confirmation that this demon knew exactly what had become of his brother.

"Where is he?" he snapped, voice as harsh as the bitter landscape. "What have you done with Castiel? And these reapers, while you're at it."

The demon glanced over his shoulders at the uncannily stationary reapers, and shrugged. "Made a few adjustments." His sneer turned back to the angel. "A gift for Gabriel."

"Where is Castiel?"

"He served his purpose."

 _No!_ Terriel's heart seized as he stumbled back with disbelief. Castiel could not be dead. The stalwart warrior couldn't possibly have been killed by something as low as a demon, and if they had lost yet another angel… Heaven was running out of hope.

Ignoring the grief-stricken angel, the demon rolled his neck with a satisfied sound. "So good being out of that pit, finally!"

"How is that possible?" Terriel barked, forcing himself to focus as he eyed the prisoners. "The barrier should have prevented any demon from crossing, even carried by a reaper!"

"Sure. Unless said demon is safely hidden behind all that angel grace."

"Reapers don't _have_  angel grace!"

The wicked grin pulled further across the demon's cheeks. "They do when Castiel so _generously_ donated his to the cause. Enough to make a small bomb."

 _What?_ Terriel's mouth opened, but no words emerged. The reapers… they were divine instruments, much like the angels, but they had never been designed or intended to bear grace. The pain it must be causing them was tremendous, yet they continued to stand in an unwavering line. The energy within them couldn't possibly remain stable for long, and if any of them were carrying souls in conjunction with that…

Terriel's eyes widened. A bomb for Gabriel. This wasn't a raving madman of a demon. This was an enemy who knew exactly what he was doing, and the threat was more real than any of them had guessed. Terriel sank slightly into a ready stance.

"You will never reach Heaven."

The demon rolled his eyes. "Why, because  _you're_  going to stop me? Please. I have enough juice stored in this lot to take out an  _archangel_. I could blast through you like you were just a paper doll."

"Yet you haven't. What's the matter… don't want to use up any of that precious power? You're channeling it from them, but it's not unlimited."

"Hmm, clever angel," the demon snorted casually. "I'd rather not, it's true. Saving it for the big guns. But you… you might be a solider, but you don't strike me as warrior class. You're just an errand boy, aren't you? I'll wager you're only here to drop off those Winchester brats."

From somewhere in his coat, the demon drew two angel blades, and that was another bad sign; one was certainly Castiel's, but the second must have come from one of the Winchesters, as reapers didn't use the weapons. There was no backup coming, then.

The demon smiled and dropped the chain, taunting, "I won't  _have_  to use any extra power to take care of you."

He advanced, but no sooner had his foot touched the ground, it exploded in a violent shower of dust and ash. The demon shrieked, hideous face screwing up in agony as he danced backwards on one foot; the other was a bloody stump, blown apart by the hidden mine. The demon scrambled to find the end of the chain again, light coursing down the metal links in a burst of power to help him regenerate.

Terriel smiled, dark and cold.

"Errand boy? I'm a sigil crafter. Now would be a good time for you to learn the difference." He knelt and pressed his hand to a shape in the dust; the ground beneath the demon exploded again, blowing him backwards. Unfortunately, the reapers were pulled along with him, landing in a tangled heap from which they didn't attempt to extricate themselves.

With a swift flap of wings, Terriel crossed the chasm the demon had created, racing for the reapers. His hand stretched out for the spike driven into the head of the reaper closest to him. He was still several paces away when fire erupted in his abdomen.

Screaming, Terriel fell. An angel blade—Castiel's, not Gabriel's, or he wouldn't still be alive—blossomed from his belly like errant bone. Even wounded, the demon's aim was just deadly enough. Terriel groaned in agony, trying to roll back over so he could reach the reapers, but they were too far away and every centimeter of movement sent wave after crippling wave of pain through his body.

"You stupid angel," the demon seethed, whole again as he stormed forward. "I'll tear you limb from-"

Another sigil mine erupted beneath him, throwing the demon aside once more with another piercing shriek.

Only a few more of the mines remained; Terriel hadn't counted on the demon being able to piece himself back together with the reapers' power. And with the wound in his abdomen, Terriel wasn't likely to win a hand-to-hand combat encounter.

Taking a ragged breath, Terriel dug his blade into the dirt and began to carve. The ground was hard to break, but the sword was sharp enough to form a new sigil around the fallen angel.

Just in time, he drew the final line as the demon stood on newly remade feet and flung a furious wave of power towards him. Light crackled as the invisible force struck a wall of energy and was absorbed into the barrier, safely away from Terriel.

"You can't stay in there forever, coward!" the demon raged. He strode forward and slashed his remaining blade into the energy shield; it crackled but didn't break. Again, the demon slammed his sword into the wall, over and over.

Each strike jarred Terriel a little harder as he kept his hand pressed to the ground, keeping his energy flowing out into a shield around him. He couldn't hold it indefinitely, though… sooner or later, the barrier would fail. The demon had no wings, so there was a chance Terriel could outrun him, even wounded, just long enough to slip into the ether. Neither demons nor reapers could reach him there, provided he made it that far. But then the demon would have a clear path to Heaven.

And with the unstable power he held, combined with how weakened Heaven already was, and all the souls residing there that would set off a chain reaction with any angel grace caught in the initial blast…

…it was over. If this demon got the reapers even close to the Gates of Heaven, science would do the rest.

_"Gabriel."_

_"I know, I hear him. Listen to me, Terry. I can't reach you, kiddo, so you gotta run!"_ Gabriel's voice cracked, which crushed Terriel's heart more than the fear of death possibly could. " _I tried, but Heaven started splitting as soon as I stepped out the gate. It's not strong enough yet, especially without you and Cas. The warriors are mustering, but you're out of time. You've done great. Now fall back!"_

_"I can't. I'm sorry, brother."_

_"That's a direct order! GET OUT!"_

_"Gabriel, the fledglings,"_ Terriel pointed out, continuing to hold the barrier as the raging demon attacked it again and again.  _"They're not fully integrated into the power grid yet, so if you evacuate them, they might stand a chance without Heaven. I can at least buy you time to get them out. Just in case."_

_"TERRY!"_

_"It's been an honor."_

Terriel ripped the blade out of his abdomen, crying out as agony flared anew and grace spurted in the wound. Locking a portion of his energy into the shield sigil, the angel climbed to his feet, a blade in either hand as he faced the demon. He didn't know how much time Gabriel would need; he'd have to buy as much as he could.

Halting his furious attacks, the demon retightened his grip on the chain linking him to the reapers, and grinned with predatory anticipation.

Before either could jump into battle, however, the border to Hell fizzled with energy. Both Terriel and the demon spun in shock, as three battered forms crossed into the wasteland.

Terriel's heart leaped.

_"It's Castiel!"_

The angel warrior was carrying Sam Winchester, the human soul looking glazed and exhausted with his shirt hanging open at the top. A reaper accompanied them, bruised and bloody but not mutilated like the others. None of them looked fit to fight, and yet their very life and presence gave Terriel hope. His brother was alive, and Castiel had made a name for himself pulling off the impossible.

With a curse, the demon stepped away from Terriel, squaring off instead towards the newcomers.

"Theodore," Castiel barked, still authoritative even now. "Get Terriel evacuated back to Heaven."

The reaper disappeared, reappearing next to Terriel as Castiel set Sam down on the ground. With a low fizzle, the energy shield around Terriel faded away, allowing the reaper Theodore to get close.

"Castiel, blades!" Terriel gasped, tossing first his own and then the one the demon had struck him with towards the warrior.

Castiel nodded his thanks, catching both weapons. He dropped one beside Sam before spinning the other up into a ready position with his eyes locked on the demon.

"Come," Theodore urged Terriel, holding out his hand. "I'm to take you back to Heaven."

"No, wait," Terriel gasped. "I can't leave him to fight alone." His mind raced. Sam Winchester would hopefully recover before too long; he didn't know where Dean might be. Two against one would have been better odds than Castiel needed, were it not for the extra power from the reapers. There had to be a way for Terriel to lend his assistance. He was an inventor, nowhere near the warrior that Castiel was. And yet, he couldn't just turn his back and run.

Theodore gripped the angel's arm. "Come on!" he insisted. "You're wounded. Besides, you gave him your swords. You have no weapon."

Terriel raised his head as realization struck. Behind him, the air crackled with energy as he drew his wings partially into the open, just enough for the angel to reach back and grasp one of the long feathers. With a sharp cry that went unnoted by the two foes circling each other, Terriel yanked the glossy feather free. It turned solid in his hand as the rest of his wings faded away again, then the angel knelt and plunged the sharp quill into the rock.

"Yes," he said grimly. "I do."

Carefully, painstakingly, the sigil master started to carve.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the big moment...

 

Castiel glowered at Laz, tightening his grip on his angel blade. The thrum of his own grace pulsed from within the ethereal metal, warrior and weapon knowing each other's feel. As long as Laz had the reapers to draw power from, though, the sword might well be useless. As effective as Sam's blade had been on  _him_ when he'd been fueled by Purgatory souls.

It didn't help that Castiel still felt exhausted from having so much grace taken away from him, with only a fraction of it returned. Laz, on the other hand, was fresh for the fight and stronger than ever.

"You sure you want to do this, Castiel?" the demon taunted him. Light flashed down the chain he held, power surging from the reapers into him. "You're looking a little… used up. We both know you can't beat me."

If Dean were there, he would have lobbed a quick-witted remark back at him, but Castiel didn't waste his breath. He flew forward, slicing with his blade as he went. Laz raised his own sword just in time, so the strike glanced off the metal, showering sparks down on the combatants.

"Is that all you've got?" Laz demanded as he yanked on the chain to force the reapers to shuffle around with him. "This will be even easier than I expected."

Again, Castiel didn't reply. He did know that he would be hard pressed to win this battle.

He also knew that winning was the only option he had. If Castiel failed now, Dean would be lost, as well as Sam. Gabriel would be lost. All his brothers and sisters, all of Heaven—and every soul in it. The Earth would be lost as it was overrun by the homeless spirits, the same Earth that he'd fought and bled and even died for, for so long. This demon could shatter the very fabric of existence if Castiel failed, and so he had no choice but to win.

Flooded with this one, overarching fact, Castiel flung himself back into the attack. His blade flashed silver, weaving a pattern of ferocious will. Laz parried the blows, hindered and aided by the reapers he clung to. They left him with precious little mobility, but Castiel could feel the power they gave the demon when each clash of their weapons jarred him to the bone.

And yet, Laz was clearly no swordsman. Though he'd managed to block every strike directed at him, the demon had yet to levy an attack of his own, holding Castiel at bay but unable to advance.

Finally, Laz jumped backwards and dodged behind the line of chained reapers, creating a living shield.

"Give it up, Castiel!" the demon barked in the brief pause. "You won't risk their precious heads."

The angel gritted his teeth, knowing it was true. The reapers were the perfect hostages: unable to do the slightest thing to help themselves, unwittingly helping their own captor and making him stronger. In the old days, Michael would have ordered they be killed for the greater good to stop Laz, but Castiel couldn't and wouldn't do any such thing. Sam and Dean had taught him that there was always another answer.

No, his best bet would be to separate Laz from the reapers, but getting close enough would be tricky. Castiel lowered his body weight slightly, preparing to attempt a short flight forward, but Laz moved first.

The demon's hand shot out, using the reapers' stored power to lash out with an unseen force. It threw Castiel off-balance, flinging him several feet away to crash down to the dusty ground. All the breath was driven from his lungs. With Laz continuing to thrust his power in the angel's direction, Castiel couldn't even struggle back to his feet.

Laz smiled, emerging from around the reapers. His hand remained extended with the blade held loosely in his grasp, approaching the downed angel with an air of victory. From somewhere nearby, Castiel heard a low grunt, but didn't dare turn his attention away from the demon bearing down on him. Thus, he almost didn't see Sam careening towards them on shaky legs until Laz whirled with wide eyes.

"Stay away from him!" Sam growled, barely able to keep his feet as he swung the blade he clenched in a wild arc.

Laz deflected the blow but was left without a spare hand to return the attack. Instead, he resorted to twisting his body and landing a bruising kick to Sam's ribs to fling the hunter away.

"Sam!" Castiel shouted.

But Laz didn't advance on Sam for the finishing blow. Nor did he return his focus to Castiel; instead, the demon spun to glower at Theodore, who had drawn closer without any of them realizing it. He was speaking now, but Castiel didn't recognize the language. Some variant of Enochian, he believed, perhaps a tongue known only to the reapers.

Whatever he was saying, the other reapers were still able to hear. A ball of radiant light erupted from the female at the front of the line—the one who had taken Dean's soul.

" _No_!" Laz bellowed as the implication clearly struck him at the same time. But it was too late.

The light streaked away from the reapers, solidifying into Dean's form as he hit the ground and rolled. The hunter leaped to his feet without losing stride, backing into line between Sam and Castiel. For the briefest second, no one moved. Dean was breathing heavily, but he was  _there_.

They were united once again as Castiel's eyes shifted from one Winchester to the other. His heart beat faster. Confidence built with the memory of other fights they had faced in this same formation, united against some of the darkest enemies imaginable. Fights they had won.

Turning back to Laz, Castiel snapped, "You think fate brought me to you? It didn't. It brought  _us_." He raised his blade. "So I can assure you… fate is not on your side."

With a snarl, Laz swung his sword hand towards the group again, throwing another wave of power in their direction. Castiel dove to the side, wrapping his arms and invisible wings around Dean to shield him as he went. Though he strained to reach Sam as well, he wasn't in time to stop all three of them from being knocked off their feet.

"We need to separate him from the reapers!" Castiel gasped as he jumped back up with a flap of his wings.

"Yeah," Dean coughed. "On it!" The hunter scrambled upright, already racing forward as Castiel and Sam moved in from either side.

Laz narrowed his eyes, shoving Dean back with a wall of power and then swinging his blade around just in time to catch Castiel's attack. Sparks flew again, light flowing in a pulsating crackle down the chain from the silent reapers. Castiel gritted his teeth as the energy nearly forced him back, thrusting again with the blade. This time, Laz's parry carried enough force to knock the blade from Castiel's grip.

"Why won't you just die?" Laz shouted, twisting to deflect Sam as the hunter charged in once again. His blow drove an already exhausted Sam to the ground.

"We  _are_ dead," Dean retorted. "Imagine what a pain in your ass we would've been when we were still alive."

"Enough of this." The chain in Laz's hands glowed brighter, the luminescence nearly blinding. Light washed through the demon, illuminating his skin from within. The black pools of his eyes turned grey from the pure energy.

If he unleashed that power now, Castiel realized as his heart stuttered to a halt, it was all over. His frantic gaze sought out his angel blade, but it was too far out of reach. There was nothing he could do.

Laz's hand rose.

The light erupted.

But instead of consuming them like devouring flames, the power arched into the air, condensing as it went. Smaller and tighter, the energy collapsed in on itself, coiling and shrieking with power. Castiel watched it fly high over their heads, turning to see the light continue on its journey until it came to a jolting halt in the form of a glowing crystal nearly the size of his head.

In the following silence, broken only by the light ring of the amethyst stone, Castiel gaped. Below the crystal, Terriel knelt, pressing his hand to a strange sign carved into the ground. Castiel didn't know what on earth he was still doing there, but somehow, he had saved them. He'd given them one more shot.

Castiel whirled and everything happened at once. Dean grabbed the end of the chain and yanked it out of a dumbstruck Laz's hands. Sam shouted the angel's name and pitched him the blade he carried. Castiel snatched it out of the air and flew forward to plunge it hilt deep into Laz's abdomen.

And Laz himself gasped, breath echoing on the rocky ground, as angel and demon stood nose to nose. Laz's eyes flicked back to the normal, human brown, as his body crackled and spurted from the smiting power he'd been struck with from the blade. For a second, his face twisted into an expression that spoke only agony.

"R-Rosie," he whispered, blood trickling from his mouth. The blade he'd stolen clattered to the ground from nerveless fingers and he gripped Castiel's sleeve instead. "I promised…"

Castiel nodded.

"I made promises, too."

He twisted the blade. The orange spurting intensified, and then the demon's form exploded into ash.

The dust settled, revealing a wide-eyed Sam and Dean heaving in deep breaths. Castiel offered the pair a short nod of gratitude, though his heart could hardly feel light in the wake of such a waste. Laz might have contributed great things to the world, had things gone differently.

But there was no use in such musings, so Castiel turned instead to what needed his more pressing attention. "The reapers," he growled, hurrying towards the line. "Sam, Dean, help me. Theodore!"

Quickly, the four began to pull the pins out of each of the reapers' heads, dropping most of them into a pile on the ground. Castiel pocketed one so that Gabriel would be able to see what they were dealing with, then left the hunters and Theodore to work on the chains while he hurried to Terriel's side.

The sigil crafter was sitting on the ground, hand pressed against a heavily bleeding wound that rang faintly of grace. Castiel frowned, easing his brother's hand away so he could assess the damage.

"Damn it," he muttered, seeing how deep the wound was. With his grace so low at present, Castiel doubted he would be able to heal Terriel  _and_ make the flight back to Heaven with passengers. "I can stop the bleeding, but the rest will have to wait until we're safely home."

Terriel nodded with a shuddering breath, not arguing. He hissed in pain as Castiel began to pour a bit of grace into the damaged flesh.

As he worked, Castiel glanced up again at the alien crystal hovering over their heads. Bafflement flooded him anew. "Terriel, what  _is_ that? What did you do?"

"That?" The sigil crafter smiled, tight against the pain, but with obvious excitement glowing in his eyes. He pressed his hand to the sigil he'd carved into the ground. "I'll show you."

The healing grace from Castiel's hand suddenly pulsed, shooting up with a whistle. Soon, another crystal hovered above them, though this one was little bigger than a pebble, and radiant blue as a sapphire instead of amethyst. Castiel gasped.

"I got the idea from the demon," Terriel explained hoarsely, reaching up to gently pull the sapphire down. "Take it."

Castiel frowned, holding out his hand tentatively for his brother to drop the glowing stone into. He gasped again as the pure power it contained filled him with warmth. "It's almost as though the grace has…"

"Crystalized," Terriel finished. "Yes. This sigil forms a conduit for power to flow through, like those chains, but it's refined and concentrated as it goes. Much like an angel blade being formed from the ether, but in this case, pure power."

"So this one is purple because it's the reapers' power."

"But lightened because it's mixed with your own grace. Whereas the one you're holding is purely angelic."

Castiel inspected the crystal, turning it several times in his hands as he wondered again at how warm the stone was. He'd never seen grace in this form before, or in  _any_ form aside from the wispy celestial light. No one ever had.

A thought struck him then, so fiercely that Castiel nearly dropped the crystallized grace. "Terriel… This could be it." Castiel licked his dry lips as he handed the stone back over. "This could save Heaven."

"They're batteries, Castiel! Batteries to fuel Heaven even if you aren't there. You'll regenerate the spent grace long before the crystallized form has run dry. Anyone who wishes to donate grace to the cause, we could power Heaven with these. One crystal of Gabriel's grace could sustain us for years! We could-"

Terriel broke off with a hitched cry of pain, his hand shooting back down to protectively cover his wound.

Standing, Castiel turned to see Sam and Dean watching in silent shock. Theodore had his arms wrapped around the huddling mass of blinded reapers. Right, one mission at a time.

"We need to get everyone back to Heaven," he said with a frown. "I- I don't know how many I can carry, and Terriel's too injured to take passengers." The reapers needed the most immediate attention, but the idea of leaving Sam and Dean here even long enough to fly to Heaven and back… assuming he could even make that many flights in his current state…

Theodore's grim face tightened. "I can take them all. That's what we do, Castiel. We're ferrymen."

Castiel nodded, wincing with chagrin that he hadn't thought of that. He was going to need a long rest when all of this was done, to recharge both his grace and his mind.

With a whisper of soft reassurance, Theodore's encompassing arms squeezed tighter as the remaining reapers shifted into a puff of grey and plum, evaporating into him to carry home. He gave Castiel one more nod, then disappeared as well.

"Cas," Sam's quiet voice spoke up at last. "You alright?"

The Winchester way would have been to reassure them that he was fine, but Castiel wasn't sure he could maintain that lie at the moment. What he wanted was to just go home, to get Terriel safely back to Gabriel for healing, to retreat to the Winchesters' personal heaven and soak in the security of the familiar walls. He tried to give the hunter a reassuring look in place of actual words, but he could feel even that falling flat.

"Thank you," he said instead, gravelly and low. "Thank you, all of you. Thanks for coming after me."

Both of their faces softened a bit as Dean strode forward and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Like we would've sat it out, knowing you were down here on your own somewhere?" he demanded. "Not a chance in… um-" Dean cut off, awkwardly withdrawing his hand. "Yeah."

Castiel bit his lip as the corners tugged up ever so slightly, relieved that his friends hadn't suffered any permanent effects from being down here. Particularly given their histories with this place. He could read pain in both of their auras that would need to be dealt with, but not here. Castiel turned back to his angelic brother, who was painfully scuffing out the sigil he'd drawn. The two scintillating crystals were clenched in his grip.

"Will you be able to make the trip?" Castiel asked, nodding to the still bleeding wound as he reached out a hand to pull Terriel to his feet.

"Yes, I- I believe so."

"Alright. You should go first, then, so I can keep an eye on you. We'll take it slow." Castiel returned to the two silently waiting Winchesters and put a hand on either of their shoulders.

"Hold on. We're going home."

* * *

 

Gabriel stood at the front gate, fists clenched so tightly that the gold rivulets in the massive doors were starting to spark dangerously with his stress. The reapers' return had triggered both relief that the threat had been neutralized and rage at the condition they were in. Gabriel's warriors had taken them to the halls of healing, and he would join them soon to see how much of the damage he would be able to reverse.

But first.

Gabriel's golden eyes flashed as the flapping of wings brought two more angels, as well as two familiar humans.  _Finally_.

"Cas!" he shouted, knocking one of the Winchesters out of the way as he reached out to grip his brother's face. "Thank Dad. You're alright?"

Cas winced but nodded. The way the kid's grace was spluttering,  _barely there,_ suggested otherwise. The skin around his neck was reddened slightly, and boy was Gabriel going to have words when he found out what  _that_ was about, but his little brother did at least seem like he would make it. Lingering for a second longer, just to be sure, Gabriel nodded and then let go.

Knocking the other Winchester aside, he flew next to Terriel with thunder in his eyes.

"And  _you_!" he snapped, jabbing a finger at the young angel. "I gave you an order!"

Terriel ducked his head, peering up at Gabriel with apology, and damn it, was he  _bleeding_?

"A  _direct_ order!" Gabriel shouted louder as he placed a hand over the wound. Light flared from beneath his palm, healing the injury in seconds. "I told you to get out of there! Do you realize you could have  _died_?"

"Gabriel, we  _all_ could have died if I hadn't-"

"And what if it hadn't worked, huh? Did you  _think_ about that? Did you  _think_ about what would have happened if- DAMN it, Terriel!"

Terriel lowered his eyes and nodded. "The fledglings?"

"I already had them brought back! Don't change the subject! I could have  _lost_ you, do you realize that?" Overcome, Gabriel grabbed his brother and yanked him in tightly, crushing the younger angel against him to reassure himself that he was still there. Taking a shaky breath, Gabriel snapped, "When I took this job, I agreed to be  _responsible_ for all of you impossible rugrats. I said I would protect you! Do you understand why I'm  _pissed_ as hell?"

"Yes…"

"Good!" Gabriel growled as he released the angel. "Because you're confined to Heaven!"

Terry blinked and glanced around before replying, "We- we're  _all_ confined to Heaven-"

"Oh, for-  _go to your room!_ "

"Gabriel," Cas cut him off, stepping forward. "He did save us all. He fought well and bravely, as bravely as any of our warriors. Besides… Terriel might have found a way to keep Heaven running."

Nodding eagerly, Terry held up a couple of glowy rocks that Gabriel was apparently supposed to recognize—and actually, one of them  _did_ have a strong grace signature, which was weird, because it was a rock, and even weirder that he knew that grace signature, and… actually, what the hell was this thing?

Snatching the blue glowy rock away from Terriel, Gabriel gave his young charge a side-eyed glare, then looked closer at the thing.

….Okay, so this might actually be important. Huffing, Gabriel jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Get to the healing wards. We'll talk more later. You're still in trouble."

Nodding, Terriel flitted off. Gabriel rubbed his temples.

"Kids," he muttered. "I don't know how Dad did this job, because you're all gonna be the death of me."

"Hey, go easy on Terry," the shorter Winchester piped up. "We never would've found Cas without those sigils he gave us-"

"Bye." Gabriel waved a hand at the two hunters, relishing the quiet as they both disappeared back to their personal heaven. He took another cursory gaze at the rock, then stuffed it into his pocket and turned to Cas.

"Are you going to yell at me, too?" the angel asked.

Gabriel snorted. "I ought to," he griped. "What's the last thing I said to you when you left with Grumpy Reaper?"

"…not to let any strange demons in my pants-"

"Yeah, no, the thing right before that. I told you to be careful. I need you, Cas."

Cas nodded, mouth twisting. "I'm sorry. But maybe with what Terriel discovered-"

"No, I'm not talking about Heaven. I  _need_ you. Frankly, these angels drive me crazy."

Castiel glanced up at him, face smoothing ever so slightly, and Gabriel knew he understood. Shaking his head, the archangel finished,

"So you're grounded, too. Healing wards. Now. We'll debrief as soon as you're back up to speed. And we gotta figure something out for those reapers."

Gabriel stalked off, shaking his head.

Whoever had said it was good to be king was a dead-ass liar.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end of yet another tale :) Thank you so much to all those who've commented, given kudos, shared, and enjoyed from the wings. Your feedback has meant everything to me! One more round of applause for Aini Nufire for being such an amazing beta reader! ^_^
> 
> I probably won't have any more chapter fics for a while. There are too many writing and art projects I have going on at the moment, including some I've promised myself I would finish before starting any more longer fanfics. I'll still be posting oneshots and drabbles though, so I'm not going anywhere! Feel free to come have a chat on Tumblr (29-pieces)! And if you enjoy any little ficlets, please PLEASE take a moment to let me know there's still interest there. You guys are all wonderful :)

"Gabriel!" Dean bellowed again, slamming his fist against the main door of the Bunker. It would have been bleeding by now, had he still been alive. "I mean it! Open this door,  _now_! Son of a bitch!"

"Dean, calm down-"

"Calm down?" Whirling to lean over the banister and glare at his brother, Dean shook his head. "Cas just spent over a  _week_  being tortured by that demon, and you don't wanna make sure he's okay? Really, Sam?"

"Of course I wanna make sure he's okay!" Sam snapped back. "But beating up the door isn't going to solve anything! Do you  _really_ think after everything, Gabriel won't take care of him?"

Dean stormed down the stairs and advanced on Sam, still thunderous. "With all those reapers to patch up, not to mention Terry, who says there's gonna be enough healing to go around? You telling me Cas  _isn't_ going to pretend he's not hurt as bad, knowing they might be worse off? You think Gabriel would be able to tell-"

"Yeah, Dean, I do. Look,  _I'm_ pissed, too, after everything we went through to get Cas back and now we're stuck in here instead of out there with him, you'd better believe I'm pissed. But this place is too big and too full of crap for me to find something that doesn't belong, to find an exit. And you want to talk about pretending you're not hurt that bad? We need to rest and heal, too. Cas will know we want to see him. He'll be here."

Dean turned his back, running a hand through his hair. He was in no mood to be logical about this. Now that everything had calmed down, he was left with nothing to do but remember Cas strung up and collared and bleeding. And that spike, that emptiness in his eyes…

With a sharp exhale, Dean yelled again,  _"GABRIEL_!"

Up above, the door finally opened. Both Winchesters hurried to the bottom of the stairs as overhead Gabriel's voice filtered down:

"I heard you the first time, Dean, will you  _shut up_?"

"Listen here, you winged dick," Dean retorted, crossing his arms. "I want to see Cas!"

"Uh, yeah, I gathered that."

Gabriel stepped out of the way, allowing another angel to come into view. Cas peered around the archangel with a wry smile.

"I'm alright, Dean."

"Cas!"

The two angels headed down the stairs to join the hunters. Dean took the chance to eye his friend carefully, watching for any sign of lingering pain. There was no outward physical trauma, all the bruises and cuts completely erased by now. But Dean had seen the stalwart angel take the most awful beatings and still want to jump back into the fight; that wasn't what he was worried about.

Though Cas seemed more haggard than they'd seen him in a long time, he at least greeted them with another tired smile.

"How's your grace?" Sam asked as the angels reached the bottom of the stairs.

Cas lifted one shoulder noncommittally, which wasn't the enthusiastic reassurance Dean had been hoping for.

"It'll recover with time," he explained. "We managed to extract a large amount from the reapers, but there's still much that's unaccounted for. I can only assume Laz burned a lot of it up while fighting us."

"Bit of bed rest and he'll be good as new," Gabriel chipped in. He clapped Cas on the shoulder with a carefree smirk.

Or, one that seemed carefree on its surface. Dean eyed the archangel, starting to understand a little better that—whatever else Gabriel might be—he was also a big brother with younger siblings who couldn't stay out of trouble. And while he hadn't always done the greatest job about it, he clearly cared about them.

Dean could relate.

A little mollified but not enough to say anything nice, Dean just harrumphed his doubt that a bit of bed rest was going to fix everything.

"And how-" Sam went on with a wince. "How are the reapers?"

Cas and Gabriel traded a quick glance, even the archangel sobering a little.

"Well, uh… put it this way, the lights may be flickering here for a while, because it took a  _lot_ of power to put them back together again," Gabriel replied. "We sorted all the grace out and I fixed their mouths… the eyes will have to wait until I've regenerated a bit. But I'll have 'em right as rain eventually." The archangel puffed out his cheeks and shrugged, though the lackadaisical air was harder to buy this time.

"The other reapers are requesting an angelic escort into Hell for the time being," Cas went on to explain. "At least until this has died down."

"Wait, not  _you_ ," Sam gasped, looking between Cas and Gabriel with horror blossoming across his face. "We just got you back!"

"You can't seriously-" Dean began angrily, though Gabriel rolled his eyes and held up a hand.

"No, not Cas. And not Terry either, he's still grounded. One of the warriors will go. Cas is on leave of absence until further notice."

Oh. Well, alright then, but Dean was still annoyed with the archangel. Gabriel gave him a smirk as though hearing the thought, which for all Dean knew, he could. At any rate, Gabriel only said,

"Which means he'll be crashing with you guys for a while. Try not to break anything, you three." He paused, then glanced quickly between Sam and Dean. Gabriel cleared his throat. "And, uh… you know... thanks."

And then he was gone, leaving the three alone at last. Team Free Will. Dean shook his head, but turned his attention to Cas.

"Beer?" he asked, already backing up towards the kitchen. "The fridge always has the good stuff in it."

Cas took a breath, then nodded. "Please."

Dean hurried from the room. Now that he'd seen Cas with his own eyes, it was a little easier to relax. Now it was time to do some damage control. For all of them. If Sam thought Dean hadn't noticed the haunted look he'd carried ever since being put on the rack, he'd better think again. And Dean himself… well, the important thing was making sure Sam and Cas were okay.

Grabbing three bottles from the fridge that never seemed to empty, Dean headed back toward the library. Sam was talking quietly with Cas, but Dean caught the tail end of the question.

"-can really save Heaven?"

"I believe so," Cas replied, looking up at Dean as he approached and accepting the beer with a grateful nod. "Terriel's working on refining the sigil right now, but he's confident. Gabriel's thrilled, of course, not that you would ever know it." He snorted and shook his head. "Who would have guessed that while Laz was trying so hard to destroy Heaven, he ended up helping us save it?"

"Don't expect me to cheer," Dean snapped as he twisted the lid off his bottle and collapsed into a chair at last. He kicked back, boots settling on the table. "Terry's okay though?"

Cas nodded again. "His wounds are almost fully healed. And speaking of wounds… how are you two doing?"

"Oh, you know me," Dean said with a light shrug.

The piercing look Cas gave him reminded Dean of the old Cas, the one he'd first met in that barn another lifetime ago. It was enough to assure Dean that the angel wasn't fooled.

"I do know you," Cas agreed. "Hence my concern." He looked between the brothers, shaking his head. "I want you to know, it was incredibly brave of you both to come after me and I will never forget it. Even most angels wouldn't tread in Hell, even with their power and without your… history."

Dean stared down at the bottle he held, avoiding Cas's eye. Yeah… his history of torture and corruption. He wondered suddenly what Cas had thought, being back in that place. That same place where he'd found Dean carving into some unfortunate, screaming soul…

"You came for  _us_ ," Sam pointed out quietly. "Both of us. And there was no way we were gonna leave you there, once Gabriel explained what was going on. No matter what the risk."

Still watching his bottle, Dean couldn't see Cas's reaction to the statement, though he himself whole-heartedly agreed. The difference was, Cas had only been in Hell because he was trying to help the reapers, because he was  _always_ trying to help someone. Sam had only been in Hell because he had sacrificed himself to save the world, and his reward was to be Lucifer's prey for eternity.

But himself? He might have gotten there by making a sacrifice, but the things he'd done after that were unforgivable. Dean closed his eyes. When he did, he continued to hear the screams, and Iris's voice taunting him about the things he'd done, things he'd thought had finally been laid to rest.

"Dean?" Cas asked, the tone in his voice suggesting that—once again—he saw right through him.

"Come on, Cas," Dean muttered, opening his eyes but looking away. "We both know you recognized the place."

From his periphery, he saw Sam glance between the two without speaking up. Then, after a second, Cas's chair squeaked on the floor as the angel leaned in closer.

"Yes," Cas said softly. "It's where I once rescued a righteous man's soul after it had been tortured within an inch of sanity. Used and manipulated by the strongest forces of evil imaginable, things no one could have withstood forever. Dean, the things that happened in Hell were not your fault."

"What difference does it make, Cas?" the hunter asked, finally meeting his friend's blue gaze. "It still happened. You think I never did anything like  _Laz_  did? That I didn't do  _worse_ , for no reason other than that I wanted to?"

"You didn't want to," the angel replied. "Dean. I remember the first thing you ever said to me, you know. The moment you realized exactly what I was, you looked me straight in the eye, and you said… you said, 'Stop me.' Not as a challenge. Not as a taunt. The desperation in your voice… I will never forget it, as long as I live. You knew I was strong enough to destroy you, and that's what you would have preferred, rather than continue on as you were doing. Yes, Dean, you did things in Hell, things any one of us would have succumbed to, but not even all of that was enough to turn your soul evil, because  _you_ , at your heart and core, were always among the righteous.  _That's_ who you are, Dean. Not what they made you into."

Dean felt his eyes burn, but at this point there was no one to hide it from. Clearing his throat loudly, he sniffed and ran a hand down his face, surreptitiously swiping away some of the tears that were beading in the corners of his eyes. "Anyway," he said, gruff with suppressed feeling and no small amount of gratitude. "I'm not the only one who's had a bad time in Hell. Spill, Sam. How bad is it?"

Sam twitched slightly in his seat, eyes flicking from Dean to Cas as the attention settled on him. "Oh, um…" He coughed. "I mean…"

"She had you on the rack, man."

"What?" Cas demanded, straightening with clear alarm. "Sam, you didn't say- are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sam insisted. He shot Dean a look, who ignored it.

"I  _know_ you, Sam. Tell me Lucifer isn't in there somewhere."

"I told you… I'm fine. Just run down from Gabriel's sigil, is all. Besides, she never touched me. Not like Lu-" He cut off and clenched his jaw. Neither Dean nor Cas broke the silence, waiting until Sam took another breath and finished, "Yeah, alright, he was in my head a bit, but it was nothing but memories. And honestly, at least with Lucifer I  _know_ it ends with me escaping him. Cas, finding you like that… not knowing if you'd pull through… I'd rather deal with Lucifer."

That went for Dean as well. He knew Cas had faced similar tortures before—always on his own. More than anything, Dean hated that his friend had been alone against this demon. That he had been cut into while alone. That he'd been collared and chained up and left in the darkness, alone. That he'd had no reason to believe anyone was coming for him, as the angels were too few to make the journey, and the Winchesters weren't supposed to be able to leave Heaven.

Dean had never once regretted giving up their lives to close Hell and retire in Heaven, but looking at Cas's face slowly fall into a haunted mien, he suddenly wished they could un-retire. To make sure Cas didn't have to fight these battles on his own, Dean would give it all up.

"Yes, well," Cas murmured. "I'm alright."

But when nervous fingers pulled at the shirt collar and tie, Dean saw the lie for what it was. As well as Cas could see right through him, the hunter knew just how to read his angel friend. And damn, sometimes Cas made it easy to do. He didn't need to note the faint remainders of reddened skin circling Cas's neck to know why the fabric was hemming him in just a little too tightly.

Likewise, the puncture wound from the pin was completely gone, yet when Cas reached up without thinking, Dean knew it wasn't to fix his hair.

Trading a look with Sam, Dean sighed and twisted his chair around to face Cas more fully.

"Cas?"

The angel shook his head. "It's just… Naomi's brainwashing. Heaven's 're-education'. The Leviathan. Rowena's attack dog spell. Lucifer. I fought so hard for the angels to have free will, and it seems fate finds ironic pleasure in taking mine away. At every turn, I become someone else's puppet. Something to be cut open and ripped out so that something more useful can be shoved back in. If not for you two… I might have been the key ingredient to the end of everything." Cas snorted. "Again."

"Laz knew what he was doing," Sam pointed out. "The only reason it was you and not some other angel is that you were the one with the guts to go in. It doesn't mean anything about  _you_."

"Sam, I haven't felt so helpless since…" Cas trailed off, leaning forward to rest his face in his hands. "The reapers have no memory of anything that happened between being spiked and being rescued. I don't believe he did anything more than put me back in the chains, but I'll never know. The reaper- he told her to hold me down and she didn't resist… he could have forced me to kill one of them. To kill one of  _you_. He could have told me to go back to Heaven and put a blade through Gabriel's heart, and I would have done it, and not even know."

He looked back up, eyes dark with nightmare. "Do you know what a terrifying thought that is?"

"Yes," both Winchesters replied in unison.

Dean shrugged and gestured to Sam. "You have any idea how many times I've almost killed him? Demon possession, monster curse, Mark of Cain, you name it. Of course it's a terrifying thought. So yeah, I know how it is."

"But don't do that," Sam urged as he leaned in to squeeze Cas's arm. "Don't think about what  _could_ have happened. It didn't. Laz is dead, and you're fine. Gabriel's fine.  _We're_ fine. Everyone made it out alive, Cas, and that's all that matters."

"Yeah, plus you get to hang out here for a while," Dean put in. "You know, watch some flicks, tinker around on the cars, or just… enjoy nothing trying to kill us all. This is your heaven as much as ours, you know."

"Well… that does sound good."

Cas's weary face smoothed into a small smile, though his eyes were still as distant as Dean knew his own probably were. It was nothing that time wouldn't fix, though. Time, and closeness with his friends. His family. Not that Dean relished returning to Hell in the near…  _ever_ … but he would definitely be talking to Gabriel about coming out of retirement. At least whenever Cas was being sent on mission, at least until Heaven was stable enough that the angel would have backup—though Dean didn't trust any of the others to have Cas's back the way he and Sam could.

But for now, they were all drained and dealing with demons of their own. For now, the only mission was to rest and recover and look after each other.

Dean's hand brushed over the sigils still burned into his skin, skimming across the signs without pressing them into activation. Somehow, he didn't think it was an accident that Gabriel hadn't had the signs removed.

After all, the peace was wonderful. But he, Sam, and Cas, they were warriors.

So when the next trouble arose? They would be ready.


End file.
